The Flag Still Stands For Freedom
by Hawthorn Tree
Summary: Alfred F. Jones is dead and America is falling into enemy hands. What no one really anticipated though was fifty states that call Alfred "daddy" and have major grudges towards foreign powers. Now with old scars reopening and secrets being revealed, they have to united for the first time on their own to save everything they'd worked so hard for. Various pairings with OCs.
1. Chapter 1

Washington D.C.

A pale brunette limped a fast a she possibly could down a deserted alley, dragging with her what most would consider a dead body. She knew he was alive though, despite the lack of breathing and trail of blood they were leaving behind them. She just hoped she could get him home before they realized he was gone.

New York City, New York

A tall sandy blonde about eighteen years old watched sadly from his apartment window as foreign troops marched up the streets, shooting anyone in sight. He dimly felt each death, almost like someone was throwing pebbles at him. He wasn't in any true pain, but already there was blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Whatever he wasn't feeling now would be coming at him full force very soon.

Dover, Delaware

A young man with dust colored hair ran down a hallway of a collapsing building with two kids in his arms. He ignored his own difficulty breathing and the fact that most of his pain wasn't coming from the burning building he was in; all that matter was getting the kids to safety. One had passed out from the smoke, while the other was coughing horribly into his sleeve. As soon as they made it out the kids were swept away by their mother, who found he was already gone when she turned to thank him.

Boston, Massachusetts

A broad shouldered and dark haired teen about seventeen glared at the four armed soldiers who had burst into his room at five in the morning. Two of the men flinched and looked ready to run while the other two stood firm, despite having the same thoughts. Subduing this kid wouldn't be easy; especially since he'd made it clear he wasn't going down without a fight.

Providence, Rhode Island

A blonde twelve year old ran frantically, trying desperately to escape the soldiers chasing him. For the first time in his existence he wished that he was with one of his older siblings, even if it meant having "When is your voice going to change?" yelled at him. Taking a glance over his shoulder, he failed to notice a rock in his path until it was too late. He fell with a startle yelp, scraping up his hands and knees. Rather than getting up though, he lay there as the adrenaline left and the pain he hadn't noticed before set in. By the time the soldiers caught up with him, he was in too much of a pained haze to care.

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

An elegant strawberry blonde hoisted a backpack bag over her shoulder and took one last lingering look around her colonial home become opening the trapdoor into the root cellar and slipping in. Not long after she had closed and secured the hatch, her front door was broken down and she heard the thunder of booted feet as they searched for her. Working her way across the cellar, she came to another hatch that covered a dirt tunnel as old as her home itself. She followed it for several feet before opening the final hidden trapdoor into a Quaker cemetery a few blocks from her house. Stepping out, she took a deep breathe of the predawn air and apologized to the dead buried there before hurrying on her way.

Burlington, Vermont

A deadly pale eighteen year old with long black hair sat on a pew with a cross necklace clasped in her hands. Nearby a bishop watched her, wondering why she would be praying so fervently so early in the morning. He was also wondering how on earth she even got into the church in the first place, but he decided it best not to ask. She had been coming to that church much longer than he had been preaching, so chances were she knew how to get in without help.  
The bishop's thoughts were interrupted when the doors to his church were thrown open so violently that the sound of them colliding with the stone walls echoed like thunder as soldiers in uniforms he didn't recognize burst in. The young woman stopped praying and whispered something under her breathe before standing up and asked the men if they would step out onto the street so that no blood would be shed in the house of the Lord.

Chesterton, New Hampshire

A short golden blonde slipped out of her dorm room and hurried down the hall. Only moments before the woman in charge of her floor had come by telling all of the girls to stay in their rooms, making this the perfect time for her to make her escape.  
Once she got to the end of the hall, she turned the corner and immediately crashed into someone. There was a moment of pure terror before the newcomer breathlessly before he whispered, "Eve?"  
Immediately relief filled her, "Timothy? What are you doing here?" she whispered back.  
"Looking for you and Sarah. Have you seen her?"  
"No, but we've got to get out of here. Do you have any wheels?"  
"You know I do."

Acadia National Park, Maine

Dark brown hair blew around a young woman's head as she stood at the top of a cliff staring down at the churning ocean. To her left the sun barely began to peer over the ocean, illuminating her white nightgown and turning her hair gold. Behind her two men, one green eyed and one blue, skidded to a stop. While the blue eyed one desperately tried to catch his breath, green eyes tried to reason with her, all the while trying not to look at the white capped waves that crashed against the base of the cliffs. The girl turned around slowly to face him once he was about three feet from her and for a moment he celebrated. Then she smirked and spread her arms, rocking back onto her heels. Immediately he lurched forward, his fingers barely brushing against the white material before she disappeared off the cliff and into the unforgiving sea, leaving the two men empty handed and rather lost.

Richmond, Virginia

The sun was just beginning the rise in the sky as a young woman with curly golden blonde hair stood numbly on the side of the street next to dozens of others, watching soldiers in various uniforms march through her neighborhood. Those watching were mainly adults and teenagers, clad in pajamas with coats, blankets, and robes thrown over their shoulders as kids curiously peered out of their windows at the display of power.


	2. Chapter 2

Detroit, Michigan

"The time is 7:30 am and the sun has risen on an occupied nation. In almost two and a half hours, twelve states along the East Coast and Washington D.C. have fallen into the hands of foreign powers. Soldiers in uniforms from Britain, Germany, Canada, Russia, France, and Italy can be seen on almost every street. The occupied states are as follows: Delaware, Maryland, Connecticut, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Vermont, Maine, Virginia, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York, and Massachusetts. States currently under siege are North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, West Virginia, Ohio, and Tennessee. Alaska and Hawaii are also facing some anxiety as they look to the west were China, Russia, and Japan lay. Known casualties are-"

The reporter was finally cut off when Ontario clicked the mute button on the remote and shared a shocked look of horror with Michigan, who looked like he was about to throw up.  
"My dad never mentioned a full scale invasion when a last talked to him," the providence whispered as he watched his friend, wondering how the state would react.  
Cooper nodded stiffly, "I figured. He probably wasn't planning on any of you finding out for some time."

Relief flooded through Reid, closely followed by curiosity, "Why do you say that?"  
Cooper shrugged and nodded towards the muted TV, which was now showing a map of the states and who had conquered them, "Notice how the Canadian forces are all focused around the Southern states, ones that none of you Providences hang out with. He doesn't want any opposition on the home front. What I don't get though, is why he would think that'd change anything? You guys basically live with us, so chances are you'd find out right alongside of the rest of use."

Reid nodded, understanding his logic, then facepalmed, "Stupid! I know why! A few days ago, Dad sent us all on a camping trip for a few days for some "bonding time" while he took care of some things. I fell into a bush of poison ivy and went home early without calling to let him know. He still thinks we're all in exile."

Cooper nodded, now fully understanding, "Alrighty then. You'd better go, Reid. I've got a resistance to plan and the last thing you need is to get in trouble with Canada."  
Reid sighed bitterly, but still allowed the state to lead him to the door of his house, "What'll you do?" he asked once he stepped outside.

"I don't know," Cooper admitted, suddenly looking older than eighteen as he ran one hand through his dark brown hair, "I just don't know."

Middle of Nowhere, New Hampshire

"So where do you think everyone else is?" Timothy asked Eve, who shrugged.  
"I don't know, probably in a rowboat someone."  
"A row boat? Why?"

Eve stopped walking and looked at her brother like seeing him for the first time, "Oh, that's right. You weren't old enough to fight, were you? I sometimes forget you're younger than me."

Timothy snorted, his pride wounded, "Not by much."  
Now it was Eve's turn to snort, "Oh yeah, only like forty years."  
"Thirty-seven," Timothy said, "And that's not that much."

Eve just shook her head, "Keep telling yourself that, New Jersey. Anyway, back during the Revolution, myself and a few others got in a rowboat and rowed from Massachusetts all the way to Georgia."  
"Ouch."  
"Yeah, it wasn't very fun," Eve confirmed, shuddering at the memory as the two began to walk again.

"So… Do you really think they're in a rowboat?" Timothy asked after a few minutes.  
Eve shook her head, "No. That was more of an inside joke than anything else. I highly doubt that anyone would be stupid enough to try and escape in a rowboat of all things."

Six miles outside of Fairbanks, Alaska

Ivan slowly approached a small cabin as a smile spread across his face. Taking a moment to admire the raw beauty of Alaskan, he briefly wondered why he had basically threatened America into buying her. But now that would be amended.

Walking up to the back of the cabin, the Russian was about to make his way around to the front when he stopped short at the sight of a huge Siberian husky. The dog barked angrily and snarled, showing off a mouthful of vicious teeth as it yanked on the chain that kept it attached to the cabin. Behind Russia, Latvia (who had unwillingly been dragged along), balked and barely managed to keep from running away. It was all a question of who was scarier, the dog or Russia.

As Latvia was contemplating and Russia was having a glaring match, a voice sounded from the front of the cabin.  
"Juneau, what's gotten into you? You find something?" That was when Alaska herself made an appearance. As soon as the dark haired girls violet eyes caught sight of the two countries though, she pulled up short.

Trying not to freak out and go into cardiac arrest, Sabrina slowly made her way over to Juneau, who calmed slightly at having her near enough to protect properly.  
"Found a pair of rats, did you?" Sabrina asked, looking calmer than she felt as she fingered the chain, "Why don't you go and chase them off for me?"

And with that, the sixteen-year-old looking state released her capital upon Russia and Latvia, both of whom took off running immediately. Doing the same, only in the opposite direction, Sabrina sprinted into the barn next to her house, where the rest of her dog sled team was housed. Opening the doors, she sent them after the two countries and called Juneau back. Then she ran into her cabin and pulled her emergency backpack out of the hall closet. Inside was to fake passports, food enough for three days, a spare set of cloths, hair dye, and anything else one would need when on the run. The backpacks had been custom made for each of the states by order of their dad during the Cold War, just in case.

As soon as she had her backpack and dog, Sabrina scurried outside and into her truck, immediately taking off down the road. Once she was far enough away, she pulled out her cellphone and called her next door neighbor, a woman named Sally, to ask her if she would watch the dogs for a few days. Once that was in order, Sabrina called the last person she would call on a normal day.

"Hey James, it's Sabrina… So what's the plan?"

**So, for those of you who didn't catch on, Reid is Ontario, which is a Canadian providence. Cooper is Michigan, Eve is New Hampshire, Timothy is New Jersey, and Sabrina is Alaska. Juneau is the capital of Alaska and in my head cannon the capitals are animals. They won't play a huge part in the story, but they will be there.**


	3. Chapter 3

**If you have not already, I would suggest rereading chapter two before reading this one, because I fixed it up like three times.**

"_So he's finally sold me?"  
"Yes. Do you hate me because of it?"  
"No, I'm happy it was you who bought me. I hate him though. He exploited me, used me, and then sold me when things started going downhill."  
"So... you're okay with this?"  
"Yes. I'm proud to be 27__th__ state of the United States of America."_

Blaketown, Idaho

A blonde fifteen year old rolled a bowling ball down the alley and watched with melancholy as the pins were knocked down. The bowling alley was closed and empty except for her, just what she needed at the time. Her siblings tended to tease her about her love for bowling, calling it an old person sport, but she loved it. It was the one thing that only she and her dad did, something they would bond over.

Once again her ball was spat back out and she was about to retrieve it when the doors opened. Turning around, she was confused when two men, an albino and a Spanish fellow, sauntered in like they owned the place.  
"Alley's closed," she called as she picked up the ball and sent it spiraling back down the lane. It bounced several times against the bumpers, causing her to wince, but ultimately she didn't care.

"Um, yes, we are aware," one of the men said, causing her to turn back around and study them warily. They had gotten closer, and were walking in the slow way that she had come to know over the years as suspicious. Instantly she was on guard and stood her ground just like she would with anyone of her brothers. There would be no white flag on her part.

"So why are you here?" she demanded, leveling them with a glare.  
"We are looking for Ida Jones and were told that we'd find her here," the Spanish fellow said, giving her what was supposed to be a sultry smile, but all it did was make her curl her lip in disgust. Madison and Colleen had taught her what to look for in a guy, and Ida was seeing none of that in these two.

"Well, ya found her. Now what'd ya want?" Ida demanded, trying her best to replicate Madison's "you're-an-idiot-and-a-complete-waste-of-my-time" attitude.

"We need you to come with us," the albino said.  
Ida snorted, "And who did you two say you were again?"  
"My name is Antonio, and this is Gilbert," the Spanish fellow said.  
"Spain and Prussia?"

Antonio looked surprised and nodded hesitantly, "Yes."  
"Right… Okay then, let me get my stuff," Ida said with false chipperness, "Here, can you hold this?" she asked, handing Antonio her jacket and messenger bag, "Just let me take off my shoes…" she stalled as she bent down.

Standing up, she grabbed her bowling ball (which had been spat back out) and swung it full force at Antonio's head. It hit him on the temple, knocking out cold. Gilbert looked from Ida to Antonio in shock.

"Did you just-"  
BAM! She threw the ball and it made contact with his chest, knocking him to the floor next to Antonio. Grabbing her stuff, Ida sprinted for the door, completely forgetting her shoes. Slamming the door closed, she ran over to the bike rack and frantically fumbled with her lock. Finally getting it undone, she shoved her helmet onto her head and took off down the road, probably ruining her tires in the process.

Somewhere in Northwestern Territories, Canada

"I wonder where Reid is now," British Columbia mused as he sat on a rock.  
"Who knows?" Manitoba snapped in frustration as he threw down the matches he had been using to try and start a fire for the last twenty minutes.  
"Here's a better question, why aren't we allowed to have any contact with the outside world?" New Brunswick asked, raising his eyebrows in a way that screamed conspiracy theorist.

"You've been spending too much time with Delaware," Saskatchewan teased with a smile, picking up the matches and successfully started the fire with one strike, much to Manitoba's chagrin.  
"He does have a point though," Alberta cut in, "We've been here for almost three days and Dad still hasn't made an appearance. He even went as far to take away our cellphones and sent us off into the middle of nowhere. No offense, Trisha."

The brunette territory shrugged, "None taken. Even I will admit that we have basically been sent into exile."  
Alberta looked from sibling to sibling as a sly smile spread across her face,  
"So shall we break Dad's rules?" she asked, proudly displaying a cellphone.

The providences all shared a look before each one shrugged their consent. Why not? What harm could it do?


	4. Chapter 4

**Before we start, I just want to thank Mittens12, The Black Dove Flyeth, and fallenshadow42 for their reviews as well as anyone who followed/favorite this story. As The Black Dove Flyeth requested, Connecticut will be in this chapter.**

"_So who are you?"  
"Ida."  
"Ida who?"  
"I dunno. Ida Hoe I guess, since I was cared for by the Hoes."  
"That's it! Idaho! That is what your state name will be!"  
"My state name is my real name? How did that happen?"_

G8 Building in Washington D.C.

"So it's done then," Canada said sadly.  
"I suppose," Britain agreed. He and France had just returned from their unsuccessful jaunt in Maine covered in branches and mud, just another blow to their pride. It was now almost 9:00 in the morning, almost two hours since Maine had slipped through their fingers and into the ocean, two and a half hours since the States had all virtually disappeared. Four hours since America had been killed by his own brothers.

The body had disappeared, and the nations had all assumed it had simply faded, like with the Ancients. The States however, hadn't, making things much more difficult. They had briefly captured Massachusetts, but he had taken out a group of twelve soldiers and Romano faster than you could say "Colony", leading them to have no desire to pursue him.

"What the awesome me wants to know is why a totally un-awesome girl could swing a bowling ball so easy!" Prussia declared as he burst through the doors of the G8 building they were in, dragging an unconscious Spain after him.

"You mean you ******** couldn't even get a little girl?" Romano demanded, leaping up from his chair with an icepack still held against his right eye, "Can't any you ******* do anything right?"

"Well it is not like you did any better!" France shot back from where he was trying to get the mud off, "You are the only one who got wounded!"

There was a moment of silence before France amended, "Besides Spain that is."  
The nations all nodded and once more lapsed into silence for several minutes. Then Canada's phone rang loudly, causing them all to jump.

"Hello?" Canada asked, wondering who was calling him.  
"Dad! Why did you invade the U.S.?!" Alberta screamed into the phone, nearly making Canada drop the phone.  
"I, um, wh-what do you mean?" he asked nervously, not really liking where this was going, "Where did you guys get a cellphone?"

"We'll never tell, now what the flip is going on!" Now it was Quebec on the phone, and Matthew could almost feel the blonde's glare.  
"Um, why don't we talk about this in a few days, when I come up to join you kids?" Canada asked, hoping for an easy way out of the conversation he had hoped he wouldn't have until they had completely conquered America.

"Why don't we talk about this now?" Quebec challenged, not giving way.  
Matthew sighed and tiredly rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead in the process. He wondered how America was able to keep fifty kids in line, but he himself was unable eleven providences from backtalking.

"Look, Quebec, we'll talk about this in a few days. Until then, please just stay put and get along. I'll explain everything when I come up," and with that, the Canadian ended the call without even a goodbye. The first thing he noticed when he did was that the other nations were staring at him.

"What?"

National Archives, Washington D.C.

"Hurry up," a dark blonde hissed as she watched a young brunette attach a glass case with a screwdriver.  
"I'm trying, Ashley, but in case you haven't noticed we're not trying to break into James' apartment right now," the brunette snapped.

"No, instead we're trying to kinda-sorta steal the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and every other important document we can find!" Ashley hissed back.  
"Well yeah, considering once those jerks come along they'll destroy everything that's American!" the brunette snapped passionately, not at all liking Ashley's gloom-and-doom attitude, "Daddy may be gone, but we're not and I don't know about you, but I'm not going to let everything he worked for go up in flames!"

Ashley looked surprised, "Wow Sarah, I didn't know you could have some much spunk."  
"Yeah, well some situations call for a bit of growing up," Sarah said dryly, and then gave a successful "ah-ha!" when the case popped open. She quickly pulled out the Declaration and rolled it up as gently as she could before placing it into the case **(a/n: think National Treasure) **they'd brought with them.

"There, that's the last of them," Sarah whispered to Ashley,  
"Great, now we can go," Ashley whispered back in relief.  
"I wouldn't be so certain," a German accented voice said from behind them.

The two girls whirled around to stare at a tall blonde with slicked back hair and a shorter Italian, who had been gagged for some reason.  
"Connecticut I presume?" the German asked, looking at Ashley.

"Hey!" Sarah cried, thoroughly offended.  
"Um, no. I'm Iowa. She's Connecticut," Ashley said, pointing at Sarah.

"Oh."  
"Yeah."  
"Sorry."  
"It's okay," Sarah said, even though it wasn't.

"So, what now?" Ashley asked, "Are you here to capture us?"  
"_Ja,_" the German said.  
"Okay… Why is that guy gagged?"  
The German looked at the other fellow, "Because he wouldn't be quite."

"Oh," Sarah entered the conversation, "That sounds like Collin, or Rhode Island, as I suppose you'd know him. We're always telling him to be quite because his voice hasn't changed, even though he's one of the original thirteen and almost like, four-hundred."

"Germany, Italy, are you two finished yet?" Britain as he stormed into the Archives, "How hard could it possibly be to get a few documents?"  
Next to Ashley, Sarah stiffened, memories of the Revolution and War of 1812 coming to mind.

"Britain, this is Connecticut and… um…" Germany trailed off and Ashley huffed angrily,  
"Iowa! I'm Io-freaking-wa! Why is that so hard to remember?!"

**And there we are folks! I hope you all enjoyed and no one is ticked at my personifications of the States. I'll try and update as soon as I can, so either tonight, tomorrow, or next weekend.**

**I've already told The Black Dove Flyeth this, but if you want to see a certain state debute, leave tell me. It keeps me writing and helps me with ideas. Some requests will be turned down due to me having plans for them already, but you never know!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!**

**Aquariu-Otter: I take it that you are a big fan of Georgia. I hope I can live up to your expectations, but honestly Damian is going to be more of a "leave me alone or I'll shoot you" type of fellow.  
**

**SeeUChan 3: Here's more! Anyone you in particular you want to see?  
**

**The Black dove Flyeth: Thanks so much! You seriously made my day as well. Your request really helped.  
**

**Roxburry Black: Goosebumps are good.  
**

**REadER: Thanks for your compliment and the review. You will see what I have in mind for the Westies. I'm actually from the Western United States, so they will have fairly big roles.  
**

**xXwhiterose13xx: Here you go. A bit of Texas, just for you. See if you can guess who before the end of the chapter.  
**

**Diaya: I sorry, but your review seriously made me laugh. I had to read it outside on my iPod due to my family and I probably looked very strange standing outside barefoot in December at seven o'clock at night. I probably shouldn't say this, but it was actually Canada who killed him while Britain held him down. Sorry, spoiler alert.  
**

Detroit, Michigan

"So what do we do?" a tall blonde asked Cooper,  
"Take things in babysteps," Cooper answered calmly, staring blankly at the wall behind his brother.  
"Oh. And what exactly are these "babysteps" and how are we going to go about doing them?" the blonde demanded.

"Well, my dear Jasper, it's elementary really," he sat up, interlacing his fingers with his best Sherlock Holmes impression.  
"Well, then, please enlighten me, oh great one," Jasper mocked.

"Step One: Round up the Occupied. We know they have Collin, Sarah, and somehow Ashley. They had Paul briefly and almost got Nessa. James'll be underground, chances are Timothy and Eve are together. Sophie probably went scary again, Mitchell will be making a grand appearance any day now, and Elizabeth will be trying to blend in with her citizens."  
"And what about Rosalie?" Jasper asked  
Cooper sighed and shrugged, "I don't know. Rosalie is predictable, which makes her moves impossible to figure out."  
"Was that an oxymoron?"  
"Yes, now don't interrupt."  
"I'm sorry. Please, continue."

"Step Two: Establish contact with the Westies. They're all going to be spread out and they're too unpredictable to track. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that Richard's with Caleb and Tate's with Jaime, who'll probably either be with either Bev or Madison. Other than that I haven't the foggiest."  
"So Step Two will probably be incomplete."  
"Yup. Now stop interrupting."  
"Sorry."

"Step Three: Get absolute confirmation that Dad is… gone. We don't know for certain and I don't want to do anything extreme before we do."  
"Okay. Is that it?"  
"No, there's one more."  
"And that is?"

"Step Four: Kick those ****** back to their own countries."

Dallas, Texas

A woman about twenty-three years old with extremely curly dark brown hair pace up and down the length of a barn while two boys and a horse watched her in curiosity. The both boys were about fifteen years old, the same height, dark eyed, and tanned. The only obvious difference between the two (besides their wardrobe choice) was that the one on the right was blonde while the one on the left had the same color hair as the woman.

After almost ten minutes the blonde spoke up, "Bev, you're gonna wear a hole in the floor ya know."  
Bev stopped, "Yes Tate, I know. I just fell so flippin' helpless!" she shouted, punctuating the last word by kicking a metal bucket into a wall, narrowly missing the other boy and sending a rabbit into a fit.

"Sorry, Santa Fe," she tried to amend as the rabbit ran up her masters pant leg.  
Immediately the dark hair boy began hopping around, trying to dislodge the rabbit while his brother nearly collapsed in a fit of laughter.

"Ah, man Jaime, you look like Mads when she sees a spider, only more noisy," Tate teased. Bev too cracked a smile at the sight of the usually serious boy bouncing around with a rabbit up his pants. It was the nickering of her horse that brought her back to the present.

Sighing, she walked over to the stall that housed him and rubbed the horse's nose, "Sorry Austin," she mumbled as she pressed her face into his neck.  
"So what do we do?" Jaime asked once he had managed to remove Santa Fe. By now Phoenix, Tate's capital, had joined the group and was draped over his master's shoulder.

"Remind me again why your capital's personification is a stripped skunk?" Bev asked, purposely avoiding Jaime's question.  
"Beverly," Jaime warned, not one to be destracted.

Bev sighed but consented, "You two are going ta go north and find Madison. She'll keep ya'll in line."  
"And what about you, Bev?" Tate asked. When Bev didn't answer, he turned serious, "Bev, ya can't go east and just start killing soldiers willy-nilly. It's not their fault they're here."

Bev smirked, "I know. And it's not them I'm after. I'm gonna show those Europeans some good old-fashioned frontier justice."  
"Bev," Jaime warned, "You really can't."

"And why not?" Bev demanded testily.  
"Because Mexico is lining up her army along the border," Jaime informed her, "She wants her land back. She's going to try and reclaim what she lost during the Mexican-American War and let's face it. If you aren't here there's not much we can do to stop her.

Bev hesitated before nodding, "Alright."

**Okay, for those of you who didn't catch on:**

**Jasper is Wisconsin  
**

**Cooper is Michegan  
**

**Collin is Rhode Island  
**

**Sarah is Conneticut  
**

**Ashley is Iowa  
**

**Paul is Massechusetts  
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**Nessa is Maine  
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**James is New York  
**

**Timothy is New Jersey  
**

**Eve is New Hampshire  
**

**Sophie is Vermont  
**

**Mitchell is Delaware  
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**Elizabeth is Virginia  
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**Rosalie is Maryland  
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**Richard is Washington  
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**Caleb is Oregon  
**

**Tate is Arizona  
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**Jaime (hi-may) is New Mexico  
**

**Bev is Texas  
**

**Madison is Utah  
**

**Santa Fe is the capital of New Mexico  
**

**Phoenix is the capital of Arizona  
**

**Austin is the capital of Texas  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It really helped with the creative juices!**

"_Ya denied me statehood when I asked, forcing me to revolt against Mexico on my own. I've been my own country for eight years now."  
"I know."  
"Ya do? Really?"  
"Yes."  
"Then way in blazes are ya wantin' me ta become a state then?"_

American Military Base, Afghanistan

A red haired young woman about nineteen years old smirked as she scored yet another point at fussball while her opponent, a tall dark haired boy about the same age, groaned.  
"Are you kidding me?" he demanded.  
"That's what happens when you challenge Stephanie, Blakely," a blonde boy muttered from next to him, "Ya loose."

"Oh, don't be such poor sports, boys," Stephanie teased, "Wanna play again?"  
"No time, kiddies," a new voice proclaimed. The three turned as a tall man with a buzz cut walked up," The General's called every outside to have a word."  
The three looked at each other in confusion before following the man, whose name was Lieutenant Hill, out of the tent.

Outside everyone was making their way over to where the General was waiting, no one wanting to be the last one there.  
"Looks like the whole camps going," Blakely observed.  
"What kind of word is this?" Stephanie whispered, a knob tying itself in the pit of her stomach. She'd been feeling uneasy since early morning the day before; though she had just brushed it off as jitters from being back in a war zone.

The three had all enlisted to serve in the Army four months ago, and since then had bonded together over several dangerous missions and the occasional drink. Now they joined the rest of their comrades, who were either sitting on the dusty ground or standing by impatiently, under the hot Afghan sun and wondered what was up.

After everyone had gotten in close enough to hear, General Faust stepped forward while a man in a suit and a nametag stood a little behind and to the right of him. General Faust was a tall, severe man with a military hair cut and no-nonsense look on his face. That look softened slightly as he looked from face to face before turning on the portable microphone that someone had handed him.

"I know you all have heard rumors, and now I am going to put those rumors to rest. Yesterday, the United States was attacked by foreign powers from several different European nations," he waited until the surprised chatter those words triggered died down, "Several eastern states are currently occupied and more are falling. Due to lack of communications, we will be unable to return home to help. We will be unable to contact families as well. The number of casualties, either civilian or otherwise, is unknown. What is known however is that for the first time since 1812, we are at war within our own country and there is nothing we can do about it. Both the President and Vice-President have been reported dead, as well as almost every secretary, senator, and congressman we have running D.C. Most of our allies have turned their backs on us and our enemies will soon be taking advantage of us. As of yesterday, it is no longer safe to be America. Greece has offered us a place to stay until things are sorted out, we leave in the morning. Everyone will be leaving the Middle East, no exceptions made. We will be joined by American missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints who have been stationed throughout not only the Middle East, but Asia and Europe as well," he gestured for the suited man to step forward, "This is Mission President Pierce. He's from Tucson, Arizona and will be speaking for the missionaries. Chances are we will be joined by other Americans, most likely civilian tourists, in Greece. Further orders will be given once communications go back up. Until then, pray for the National Guard, the Reserves, and anyone else fighting for our freedom."

Content that he had given all the information he possibly could, General Faust stepped down from his soap box **(a/n: not literally) **and immediately his listeners erupted with conversations. Blakely and Rogers immediately looked at each other and were surprised to find that Stephanie was no longer standing between the two of them.

America's House, Washington D.C.

Britain sighed as he walked up the well-worn walkway that lead up to America's colonial house. It wasn't the one he had built for the ungrateful brat, oh no that one was in Virginia, and was probably rotting away from lack of use.

Opening the door, Britain was bitterly surprised when he wasn't confronted with the smell of rotting fast food. Instead, the house was rather clean, almost spotless. Of course there were a few things out of place, but no more so than in any home.

The walls were lined with photos ranging from nearly two and a half centuries old to almost brand new. Once again England received a bitter jolt of surprise when he realized that most of the pictures weren't of the narcissistic idiot, but rather of his annoying states.

After circling the room in order to get a good look at all of them, he found himself at the fireplace. Mounted on the wall above the fireplace was a painting that England was guessing had been painted after America had snatched up his fiftieth state. On the mantel was only two pictures, one taken quite some time ago and one from very recently.

The first was yellowed with again and showed a younger America with well, America. England squinted in confusion; it was almost as if he had cut himself in half and then gotten him picture taken. One of the boys had glasses (Texas, if England remembered correctly), while the other one had that annoying lock of hair (Nantucket, was it?). Both were light haired with serious faces and held themselves almost as if they didn't want to be sharing the same air with the other, let alone in the same room.

The second picture was of America and Britain. It had been taken only a week before at the G8 meeting in Sweden by Japan. In the picture America had a huge grin on his face and an arm slung over a very uncomfortable Britain. And he'd had every right to be uncomfortable. Only a few days before talk of invading America had been brought up, leading several countries to start walking on eggshells around Alfred, who had been too dense to notice.

With an angry growl, Britain threw the picture frame down, feeling a small twinge of satisfaction when the glass shattered. The satisfaction quickly morphed into guilt though, and England decided to move on.

Walking down the hallway and eventually up the stairs, England made a point of poking his head into every room he came across. The kitchen, the game room, the bathroom, the bedroom, the office (which had actually been used), the library (now that was a real shock), the three guest bedrooms (did the idiot really think he could fit his kids in there?), even the hall closet, which resulted in him getting buried in bed linens.

Once Britain detangled himself from the sheets and blankets, he realized that he was at the end of the line with only one way to go. Up into the attic. Gathering up his courage, Britain opened the door and walked up the surprisingly un-dusty stairs. Once he reached the top, the former empires mouth fell open in shock.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks so much to everyone who has followed/favorited this story, it really means a bucket-full.  
**

**GoldenxXxKitsune: Suspense is good. Unfortunately, you're gonna have to wait a bit before it leaves.**

**Alos-kun: So, I've already answered you're question, but I'll do it again. You can request state appearances and a certain attitude for some of them (some, but not many) and states that have made an appearance are New York, Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Maryland, Delaware, Iowa, Michigan, Alaska, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Virginia, New Jersey, and Wisconsin (at least I think I got them all). More states in this chapter. If you have any ideas for states capitals though, I'm all ears.**

**Reviews from last chapter:  
**

**Diaya: Wow, that was quite the response. Calm down, take a deep breathe, eat some chocolate, it'll be all right. England and Canada's feelings on the whole situation will be broached upon later. Thank you so much for your reviews by the way, they really help make my day.  
**

**The Black Dove Flyeth: Your wish is my command. For the most part.  
**

**xXwhiterose13Xx: No problem at all. Thanks so much for your request, it really helped me. Now if only I could get other people to do so as well...  
**

"_Another Christmas in the trenches then?"  
"Yup. But look on the bright side, at least we don't have to spend it with France!"  
"I am back, mon amis. Did you miss me?"  
"Um…"_

G8 Building, Washington D.C.

France looked up in surprise from his corner where he was (still) trying to get the mud off when Germany came through the door of the conference room dragging to squawking girls with him. The taller of the two was a dark blonde about fourteen while the other was a brunette about thirteen. Both were protesting loudly while Germany kept a tight grip on their biceps and a dazed Italy trailed behind them.

"What's this?" France demanded, not quite knowing how to respond to their arrival.  
"Connecticut and Iowa," Germany explained, "We caught them stealing all of the documents."

It was then that France noticed the two were clutching four cylinder cases close to them, despite their lack of a second arm.  
"We weren't _stealing them_," Sarah insisted, "We were just _borrowing_ them until you guys got your butts kicked back overseas. Then we were going to put them back."

"Wow Sarah, can you say "talkative"?" Ashley demanded, not happy with her sister's big mouth.  
"Talkative," Sarah repeated, "I don't see why you're so upset though, it's not like I told them we were going give them to Minnesota to hide."  
"Sarah!" Ashley hissed, "Shut up!"  
"Sorry!"

"Oh, no, mon cherie, do not stop. Though I can think of a better use of that mouth of yours," France purred seductively as he approached them, his rape face on full blast. He then leaned over and whispered something in Sarah's ear. Instead of making her blush as he had hoped though, a look a pure horror came across the girl's face and she let out an ear piercing screamed before whacking him in the face with the Bill of Rights.

As soon as she saw Sarah hit France, Ashley kicked Germany in the shins before alternatively hitting him with the Constitution and Articles of Confederation while he sputtered in German. Once Sarah was content with the damage she had done to France, she turned and ran out the door, Ashley hot on her heals.

Through the whole thing Italy huddled in a corner waving his white flag uselessly.

Columbia, South Carolina

Canada looked up at the home of Emily Jones and heaved a sigh, which turned into a coughing fit due to the extreme humidity. The invasion of the United States had begun yesterday morning and since then had been almost stalemate. When they had first arrived they'd used German blitzkrieg, or "lightning warfare", and that had gotten them New England as well as Virginia, but after that they'd had little progress aside from North Carolina. They also hadn't seen any new states since then, or even any of the ones they had lost. It was like the kids had completely disappeared.

And now here he was in front of South Carolina's home, with the young blonde watching him cautiously from her open window. Behind her he could barely see her twin, North Carolina, who had a long gash running down her forehead from when Russia had gotten a bit carried away with the invasion.

"Girls, I can see you," Canada called up.  
"We know," was the response he received.  
"So why don't you open the door and we can talk?"  
"I have a better idea," South Carolina called back and both girls disappeared from view. For a brief moment Canada wondered if they were going to come out, but that hope was shatter alongside the flowerpot that fell onto his head.

Matthew stumbled, his vision blurring and moving in the strangest ways. Looking at the pot, he noted that it had been holding a small lilac bush before blacking out completely.

**Connecticut – Sarah  
Iowa – Ashley  
South Carolina – Emily  
North Carolina – Jessica**

**Okay, so for those of you who don't quite get it, the italics on the top are memories. They'll get more detailed and in depth as we go on, but for now you'll have to use your imagination and guess. If you think you know what's going on, please review and tell me, I'd like to see what ya'll think.  
**

**Until next time!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

"_You know what I really hate? Historical Hollywood movies. They take all these horrific events that we had to live through and makes them look glamorous. I mean really, The Patriot? I love that movie, but no one looks as good as Gabriel Martin did after being in Valley Forge, or anywhere in the Revolution for that matter. Then there's all those stupid World War Two movies with their heroics and their dashing main characters that overcome all evil and beat the Nazi's no problem. Indiana Jones is a perfect example of that. Don't get me wrong, I love watching the movies, but it was never that easy. There times even today, sixty plus years later, when I flinch at the sound of gunfire coming from those movies. I hate how incorrect they are. People will never appreciate the sacrifices made by soldiers if they're always watching that crap."  
"You got a problem with Hollywood, boy?" Nikki demanded.  
"No ma'am."_

America's House, Washington D.C.

If the house was nice, then the attic was positively exquisite. It was all one huge room, covering the entire top of the house. The walls were covered in murals of a different time, back when forests dominated the continent and the vast wilderness were untouched expect for a few pockets were people lived simple lives as they tried to make it through life. Twine was strung back and forth along the ceiling, just above were America's head would have been. Pictures were hung up with clothespins, each one painstakingly preserved and labeled.

_James' Homecoming Game, 2007 _read one, showing a young man that looked almost exactly like Alfred holding a football helmet in the air in triumph. _Natasha's Ballet Recital, 1998_: a young woman with auburn hair was posed in a black dress designed like a cat. _Kevin's Teeth, 1874_:a little boy with wild brown hair and four missing teeth grinned at the camera, no doubt having to wait quite some time before the picture could be taken. _Cooper and Reid, 1962_: to boys looked at the camera with guilty smiles on their faces, having been caught doing something they shouldn't have. _Olympics at Madison's, 2002_: two girls, a blonde and a brunette, grinned at the camera, both clad in earmuffs and scarves, the blonde holding a cup of hot chocolate, clearly having the time of their lives.

The pictures continued like this for quite some time. They were just random pictures of dates with very little historical significance. They were memories capture by a father who wanted to remember every moment. Eventually the twine ran out, and it was then that England noticed the photo albums stacked on low bookshelves along the attic. Picking up a random one, he vaguely noted that it was titled _"Jones Family Reunion, 2011"_ before turned to the first page. He was met by a picture of Alfred and his fifty states, all crowded together and making faces at the camera.

The rest of the album was pictures from their reunion, showing each of the states interacting with each other and the occasional fight that was bound to break out. Once England was finished flipping through the pages, he put the album back and went through another one. Once they had lost his interest, he moved on.

One bookshelf was stuffed full of envelopes and a few packages ranging from the size of a cellphone to a computer screen. One package in particular caught his attention though. It was one of the larger ones and wrapped in a type of brown paper that England hadn't seen in almost a century. The bundle was tied together with some string and had an envelope tucked into it. Picking up the envelope, he noted that it was opened. Pulling out the letter it contained, he was met with a short letter meant for Alfred and Alfred alone.

_November 17, 1889_

_Dad-_

_Well, I guess it's over and done with now. The frontier is closed and I'm on my way to finally becoming a state, almost fifty years later. With the government moving in and things moving away from the Church, it's no longer safe for me to continue my work as the sheriff, despite it being my role in our little community for nearly three decades, so I was hoping that you could keep an eye on my stuff until I need it again. I don't really know what else to do with it, to be perfectly honest, but you mentioned that you like to collect mementos from the different times and I figured you might appreciate a few more additions, to your collection. I'm keeping my boots though; they'll never go out of style.  
I'm worried about Jackson though. Since he became his own state, he's been different, and not in a good way. He's not attending Church anymore and to be perfectly honest, it kinda scares me. He's no longer that little boy who I carried across the plains._

_~Madison_

_P.S.  
It's a Six-Shooter Colt Frontier, not a pistol!_

His curiosity mounting, Arthur put the letter back into its home and set it aside before picking up the package. Carefully unwinding the string, he pulled back the ancient paper to reveal… a jacket? To his surprise, he held in his hands a long faded brown leather jacket lined with wool with a silver sheriffs badge pinned to the lapel. Standing up, he unfolded it and sent a small gun tumbling out. Assuming this was the not-pistol, he picked it up carefully and studied it.

For a gun that had been in America's attic for over a century, it was in very good condition. Checking the pockets of the jacket, he even found the bullets that went with it, along with a wad of stiff fabric and several other random objects. Losing interest in the package and its contents, he was about to put it back away when he noticed a faded picture amongst the packaging on the floor.

Picking it up, he was met with the sight of America stand with a young brunette about fifteen who England assumed to be Madison, if her jacket (which went to about mid-thigh) and gun were anything to go off of. Both were dressed in those atrocious cowboy clothes America had been so proud of for the longest time and were armed more than was proper for a lady. They looked tired, but at the same time… happy.

As he stared at the photograph, a wave of guilt swept over England. For the longest time he had thought of the States as Alfred's pet projects. Things to collect and display, but not grow attached to; the same way Britain had felt towards each of his colonies and territories. But looking around the attic, he began to have second thoughts.

The sound of the front door opening and closing followed by the sound of two young female voices down bellow snapped him out of his sentiment and immediately guilt was replaced by disgust. Angrily he threw the picture down next to the packaging and jacket, not caring in the least that he hadn't replaced it nicely like he normally would have.  
_"It's not like America's going to care,"_ he thought bitterly, _"That ungrateful boy is over and done with."_

Fueled by his new resolution, Britain stormed down the stairs and quickly found the other two visitors, who turned out to be the same girls from the Archives. They all met in the hallway and the two girls froze when they saw him, probably not expecting to find anyone else there.

"How did you get away?" England demanded harshly as he stomped forward. The girls tried to retreat, but he was much faster and stronger. Grabbing the girls by their hair, he forcefully dragged them out of the house, not caring that when Iowa tripped on the porch steps the only thing keeping her from falling flat on her face was his grip on her hair or how Connecticut seemed to be gasping for air. He was furious and he didn't know why.

Appellation Mountains, West Virginia

A short brunette boy watched silently from his post behind some of boulders as a small group of soldiers tried to stealthily creep through the forest. In truth they were being freakishly noisy, but who could blame them. From the looks of the group, they were from Italy and he was pretty sure there weren't any forests in Italy. Which begged the question why some idiot would send them here.

Once they were in firing range, he picked up his Civil War rifle, which he'd kept despite his family's insistence that he wouldn't need it. For some reason they thought that because he was short and looked young, he was a child.

Aiming at the soldier leading the squad, he fired and whooped in triumph when he killed the man with one shot. Immediately the others were freaking out and scrambling around, trying to figure out where the shot had come from and how best to avoid the next one.

Taking advantage of their confusion, Benny scrambled from his spot and hid behind a nearby tree before firing again. Now they were more confused and Benny milked their cluelessness for all it was worth. Darting around their group and firing from different positions while occasionally making a few whoops and hollers, he made it appear that it was an ambush. In truth it was simply a twelve year old looking state using guerilla warfare, but they didn't need to know that.

Three minutes later there were maybe three soldiers left and they were booking it back the way they'd come at an astonishing speed. Benny watched them go, shaking his head at how pathetic they looked and knowing full well that if they had fought him as hard as they fought to stay in front of each other, they would have won.

Once he was sure they were gone, he stepped out of his hiding place and inspected the bodies. There were about six of them and it turned out that two of them were French.  
"How did that happen?" he wondered aloud, but shrugged it off. Wasn't his fault that somewhere there was an idiot who would regret sending these fellows out into the world on their own.

Crouching down by one of the bodies, he started rooting through his pockets to see if he had anything of use on him. Most would consider this a despicable act, but anyone who had fought in a war before new that you did whatever it took to survive. It was another three day walk to Elizabeth's house and going on an empty stomach was not pleasant, no matter what century you were in.

Unnoticed by Benny though, someone was creeping up behind him. Someone with the stealth that came with almost two centuries of roaming the Appellations. Once the stranger was close enough, he slammed his arm on the boy's shoulder and shouted,  
"Arkansas!"

Benny shrieked and leapt impressively high into the air, turning around to face his older brother with a heaving chest while he laughed and laughed.

"Haymitch, don't do that to me!" he demanded, irritated with his younger brother's antics. Haymitch just smirked, the expression giving him what woman would consider a "ruggedly handsome" look as he ran his fingers through his auburn hair,

"Ah now, Benny, don't be like that, it was just a bit o' harmless fun," Haymitch whinned, "S'not my fault yer so jumpy."  
"Jumpy?" Arkansas demanded, "I'm jumpy? There are foreign soldiers tramping through your mountains and all you can think to do is play useless pranks?"

Haymitch's expression darkened, "Hey now, there's no reason to get yer knickers in a knot. I know they're here."  
"Really, West Virginia? Is that why yer insistin' to act like a child?"  
"I wasn't acting like a-" Haymitch started to defend, but Benny waved him off.

"Whatever, just come on," he said, brushing past the taller man. He didn't like West Virginia in the least, seeing the younger state as a useless drunkard that wasn't worth his time. Elizabeth (Virginia) adored him though, so Benny always made a point of tolerating him when she was around. She wasn't now though, so he didn't need to hide his distaste.

**Cue insert of Arkansas and West Virginia with mentions of Utah and Nevada. They won't be making an appearance yet (I'm sorry bestybugaboo), but they will soon. There was also no Colorado (forgive me Guest), but he will probably pop up with the rest of the Westies. So, within the next few chapters. I just need to get everyone into place.**

**Boy, Iowa and Connecticut can't seem to catch a break, can they? And why was Sarah having trouble breathing? I know, but do you?**


	9. Chapter 9

"_Hey Daddy, what's your favorite color?"  
"Oh, I don't know, Kevin."  
"Why not?"  
"Well, I guess I've never really thought about it before."  
"Then how did you pick out the colors on your flag?"  
"I didn't, a woman named Betsy Ross picked them out for me."  
"Don't give me that crap. Now what's your favorite color?"_

Unknown Location, United States

Canada came to consciousness with one of the worst headaches he had ever experienced, probably from having a flowerpot dropped on his head. Opening his eyes to an extremely fuzzy vision, he tried to move only to find that he had been duct tapped to a chair. Lifting his head, he found himself looking at-  
"England?"

England jerked around in surprise and stared at him for a second before calling out,  
"Cooper, he's awake! What should I do with him?"

There was the sound of two sets of footsteps behind him before Germany came into Canada's line of sight and tilted back his head so that he could shine a light into his eyes,  
"He's got a concussion, but ultimately he'll be alright."

It was then that Matthew realized that "Germany" and "England" had American accents and didn't quite look right. Germany's hair wasn't quite as slicked back while England's was more blonde and slightly more tamed. Both were wearing casual clothes that consisted of jeans and t-shirts with jackets and converse, something neither nation would be caught dead in, especially during war-time.

As he thought about it a bit harder, causing his headache to increase by quite a bit, the answer came to him. Unfortunately, it left when Germany hit him over the head with the butt of a gun, causing the blackness to take him again.

G8 Building, Washington D.C

Britain flung open the doors to the conference room with a vengeance, startling France (who was still muddy) and Italy (who was working on the knot that kept him gagged). Both nations stared in shock as Britain flung the two girls into a corner and yelled at them to stay there before turning his wrath on shocked personifications.

"I thought I said not to lose them?" he demanded as he stormed over to them. Italy backpedaled quickly, whimpering through the gag, while France held his ground and tried to explain before Britain did something they would both regret.

"Angelterre, we tried, but zey caught us by surprise-" he started, but was interrupted by a livid England,  
"Caught you by surprise, did they? They're two little girls, you git, they're not that hard to keep in line!"

"And I suppose zat is why you lost them twice?" France shot back, irritated with Britain's mood.  
Britain's face turned a strange color, "They had help then and were just fighting me! You three, however, lost them the moment I walked out the door. Can you do nothing, you useless frogface?"

"Well I am sorry if you are a cranky-puss. Besides, how can you claim to be able to do better when you do not even notice that Germany has left and one of ze little girls is struggling to breath?" France demanded and immediately both countries were directing their attention towards Iowa and Connecticut, who was indeed having troubles breathing while Ashley desperately trying to calm her down.

Noticing that they were watching them, Ashley sent England and France a vicious glare from where she was trying to get Sarah to calm down.  
"What's wrong with her?" England demanded,

"She has _asthma_, you idiot. She can't _breathe_," Ashley snapped,  
"Doesn't she have her inhaler?"  
Ashley looked at him in disgust, "No! That's why we went to Dad's house, except we were _interrupted."_ By now her glare rivaled anything Russia could do and was actually rather quite terrifying. England however, was not backing down.

"Well, can't she just calm down or something?" he asked uselessly. Now everyone was looking at him in disgust, except for Sarah, who was coughing viciously and looked like she was freaking out.  
"No! And if she doesn't either get her medication or go to a hospital, then she's going to lose consciousness and die. But you don't care, do you?" Ashley asked in a bittersweet voice that clearly portrayed her hate of England.

"Good thing I'm here then," a tall sandy blonde about eighteen years old informed them as he entered the room. England whipped around to glare at him and almost choked on his own spit. France was in the same condition as him while Italy cocked his head in confusion and Ashley visibly looked relieved. Sarah was turning blue in the lips and didn't seem to quite register his appearance.

He strode over to Sarah quickly and held out an inhaler. She literally lunged for it and gratefully sucked in several breaths, her normal coloring returning slowly. The boy then turned to the three countries and raised an eyebrow. England looked ready to have an attack to rival Sarah's.

The new arrival looked almost exactly like Alfred. There were a few differences though: his hair was slightly sleeker, he didn't have any glasses, and his clothes were very much different. Other than that, he was exactly the same. Right down to that annoying cowlick that stuck out from underneath his tri-corner hat, something Britain hadn't seen in years.

France was the first to speak, "Amerique?"  
America looked at them in confusion, "What are you talking about? In case you didn't notice, you kinda _killed _him."  
"Then who the bloody **** are you?" England demanded, uneasy about the resemblance.

"James. New York," he informed them flatly before turning his attention back to Sarah, who was breathing much easier and immediately wrapped her arms around her older brother's neck, burying her face into her neck. He cradled her close and softly whispered something. The nations couldn't hear what he said, but the girls did and both seemed to calm down.

Everything would be alright. It was like Madison always told them,  
"Everything will be alright in the end. If it's not alright, then it's not the end."


	10. Chapter 10

"_Why do you want to leave so bad?" Alfred shouted, "Why is keeping the Union intact such a horrible thought to you?"  
Henry glared angrily, "You're trying ta change us and we don't appreciate it."  
"But, everything we've worked for. The Union…" Alfred said weakly.  
Henry snorted cruelly, "Don't think of it like we're leavin' ya. Think of it like yer revolution. Bri'ain suppressed ya and ya broke away. Now we're doin' the same."_

G8 Building, Washington D.C

Britain gapped at New York. The last time he had seen the boy, he'd been a rowdy half-Irish child of about ten. That had been before the Revolution, sometime around 1690, right before he had started using Salutary Neglect when it came to America, and had left the Colony in charge of the Original Thirteen. They'd met briefly during the Revolution, but the wanker shot him in the foot upon sighting, so no conversations had been engaged. Now New York was easily six feet tall and had an air of strength and seriousness similar to America's during the Cold War. He was gentle with his two sisters though, cradling them close and rubbing Sarah's back as she began to breathe again.

Once James was certain the brunette was fine, he set her down next to Ashley, and the girl joined he sister in clinging to the hem of his shirt.  
"Where's the Nuisance, I mean, Rhode Island?"  
Both of the girls shrugged,  
"Haven't seen 'im," Ashley said, "Did the idiot get himself caught or somethin'?"

"I'm right here," a tired (an oddly high voice) sighed from the corner. The three states then looked over to see a blonde twelve year old boy tied to a chair in the corner. They hadn't noticed him before then and in truth the countries had completely forgotten he was still there, so he was hungry, tired, needed to use the bathroom, and a whole lot of cranky.

"Oh. Hi Collin. How long have you been there?" James asked, not really caring in the slightest.  
"Since this whole business began. Do you want to untie me?" Collin asked hopefully, vision of the awaiting restroom down the hall. James looked like he wanted to say no for a moment before wolfish grin spread across his face.

"Sure thing," he told the boy in a voice that made him rather nervous and wish he hadn't asked his brother for help.

"Wait a tick!" Britain shouted, "You can't untie him! You can't even be here! And where the ham sandwich is Germany!"

Savannah, Georgia

Cooper and Riley approached a small colonial house cautiously.  
"Remind me why we're doin' this again?" Ohio hissed at the brunette, not at all happy with being chosen to come along on a suicide mission.  
"Because believe it or not, we need Damian on our side," Michigan snapped back, not wanting to be there anymore than the dark blonde.

"I know that, but why couldn't we have sent the Carolinas or somthin'? He actually likes them… to an extent."  
"What do ya mean "to an extent"? Damian doesn't like anyone, now stop being an Italian and get on the porch," Cooper demanded.

Still not happy, Riley reluctantly walked up the porch steps and stood next to Cooper, who motioned for him to knock. Immediately Riley shook his head and mouthed a firm no before motioning for the other state to do it, giving him a look that clearly stated it was Cooper's idea.

Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Michigan raised a fist and knocked on the door before bracing himself to run for his life. When nothing happened, he looked at Riley, who was also ready to take flight, in confusion. Relaxing, both boys straightened and looked at the door before looking back at each other,  
"Maybe he's not home?" Ohio offered helpfully and Cooper shrugged in return. It was then that both of the Great Lakes states heard the tell-tale sound of a shotgun being loaded and dove to the side not a moment too soon.

The front door to the house seemed to explode in shards of wood as the shot rang out, smashing a good sized hole in the oak and taking out part of the porch railing. It was then that Georgia made an appearance by throwing open the door and pointing it at the two Yankees, who immediately started moving and trying to keep him from blowing holes into him like he had the door.

Seeing it was just two of his idiot brothers, Damian lowered the shotgun but didn't set it down. Just because he wasn't going to kill him didn't mean there weren't any hard feelings between him and Cooper. Riley he didn't mind so much, mainly because they never really spoke, but he was still a Yankee and had played a key role in the Civil War on the side of the North.

Damian Jones didn't like having things to do with his siblings outside of the Carolinas, finding the others to be rather annoying. He himself was tall and auburn haired, with a large scar running from his ear to his chin and onto his neck before disappearing underneath the collar plain grey t-shirt he wore. To most the angry red scar was terrible, something to be ashamed of, but Damian didn't mind it. It kept idiots from bugging him (sometimes, apparently not always) and it distracted people from the similar ones the Carolinas went at such lengths to hide.

"What do you idiots want?" he snarled, thoroughly ticked at their appearance.  
"Um…" Riley and Cooper shared a look before sheepishly saying,  
"Help?"

Unknown Location

Ludwig opened his eyes and found himself standing in the middle of nowhere. Thick clouds surrounded him in a white shroud that made it impossible to see past a few feet. Bending down, he inspected the ground and found that it was snow up to mid-calf, making him happy that he was wearing his boots. Underneath it was…  
"Salt?"

"Welcome to the Salt Flats," a female voice said behind him. Turning around, he found himself looking at a young woman about nineteen with chocolate brown hair that reached just past her shoulders. Her large hazel eyes were framed by long eyelashes and accented by high cheekbones. Freckles dotted along the bridge of her nose, somehow standing out against her lightly tanned skin.

She was healthier and much better fed than when he had last seen her. At the time, she had been starved and beaten with her hair cropped close to her scalp and dressed in a ragged army uniform. But that fire had never left her eyes and she still held herself with that same unbreakable pride that proclaimed she knew who she was and she would never back down. Petite but not fragile, slender but not skinny, tall but not overly so. She hadn't changed a bit.

"Madison," the nation breathed, taking a step towards her and extending his hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. To his surprise though, she deftly caught him by the wrist before he could touch her. Madison's grip was firm from years of roping in criminals on horseback and keeping her brothers in line: a difficult feat no matter how amazing you are.

"I take it you are not here for pleasantries?" Ludwig asked.  
Madison shook her head, "More to call you an idiot."

Germany hummed and looked around again, "And where are we exactly?"  
Madison smirked, "The Salt Flats. You do realize I already told you that, right?"  
He sighed. That wasn't the answer he had been looking for.  
"Do they always look like this?"

Madison shook her head, "No, not in April. This's usually win'er weather. Normally a' this time of year we'd be up to o'r knees in salt water. But with all the things going on I figured it'd be best ta save the rain and keep the snow. My people are used to i'," she paused and looked around before sighing, "This really is quite an impressive place, when ya can see i'.  
"There're moun'ains all around us and I-80 is just a bit to the south. To west in Windower, the only town for the next 150 miles. It's also the only thing Jackson and I share these days, since i's right on the border."

She stopped and seemed to deflate. She had started moving while she had been describing the area and now had her back to him. After a few moments of silence, he cautiously stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I do not think that we are here to talk about our surroundings," he said softly.  
The state shrugged, "No, I suppose not. It really is an amazin' place though. It'd be terrible if someone decided to do something stupid, like wage a war, on i'."

"I take it you don't approve of our actions?"  
Madison whirled around and glared at him, "Of course I don't approve! You've invaded my country and hurt my family. I'm not gonna le' tha' slide." She stepped forward and held a finger out, "And neither are my siblings. By the time we're done with you and yer buddies, yer gonna wish Dad was still here."

Still glaring, she lowered her finger slowly. Ludwig was silent, not wanting to activate her more. Once she was certain that he had gotten the message, Madison turned and walked away, quickly disappearing into the low clouds.

When Ludwig jerked awake, he found himself duct taped to a chair in nothing but his boxers with Canada next to him in a similar predicament. When the Canadian nation noticed he was awake, he sent the German a sympathetic look, unable to say anything through his sock, which had been shoved into his mouth and tapped to his face. At least the other hadn't been awake when they'd been stripped. Or maybe that was worse, he wasn't quite sure.

G8 Building, Washington D.C.

"I am here, Britain," Germany said as he stepped into the room, "I was just making sure no other states were running about.

**Dun, dun, dun! The plot thickens! Sorry if Madison's accent was hard to understand, I never realized how bad my Utah accent was (no, Madison is not based off of me) until I tried to put it in writing.**

**As for the Salt Flats, yes they are real and fairly amazing. Unless you're like me and drive across them at least eight times a year, then not so much. As for the view, I actually wrote that scene while driving west across the Flats (twelve hours in a blizzard the day after Christmas) and that's pretty much exactly what it looked like. It was fairly awesome. Then we drove home across Nevada when it was -11F. That was not fun in the slightest.**

**Sorry this update took so long, I have seriously had no internet since the week before Christmas. No cellphone service either, not that my sister ever lets me near our phone.**


	11. Chapter 11

Clearwater Beach, Florida

Cuba stepped onto the beach with a complete air of pompous self-satisfaction. In just 12 hours, he had conquered the Florida Keys and was now at the rip of the peninsula. He had finally done it. America was gone and now he, Cuba, would rise as the world's next great superpower-

SMASH ! His internal gloat was painfully interrupted when his face was reintroduced to his half-sisters fist. In his triumph, the island dictatorship had failed to notice the basketball jersey and jean shorts clad representative Florida; a mistake his nose was paying dearly for.

Landing painfully on his back in the sand after an impressive amount of hang time, Cuba lay dazed as Florida loomed over him, a sight that had sent stronger men running in fear. Inez Carriedo-Jones was the third strongest state and tended to hold extreme grudges, a deadly combination no matter how you looked at it.

Standing at 5'11, she was slender and very tan with mid-back length black hair, dark eyes, and high cheek bones. In short, she was as gorgeous as her land. Unfortunately, her temperament usually tended to match the hurricanes that ravished it.

"What are you doing here, Manuel?" she demanded as she lifted Cuba up by his collar and fixed him with an evil glare.  
"Um… visiting?" Manuel said weakly, deciding it best not to aggravate her any more than he apparently already had. It always helped that he could clearly see the stray curl that represented the Keys springing off the side of her head, a clear statement that he hadn't been as successful as he had hoped. On the contrary, he had only ticked her off.

It was clear from Inez's expression that she didn't believe him in the slightest, not that it was a surprise. The tropical state hated Spain and his colonies, present or former, even though she herself had once been one. Actually, now that he thought about, maybe that was why she hated him, Spain, Mexico, and most of the other former colonies in South America and the Caribbean. It all made sense now.

As Manuel was discovering this life changing revelation, Inez was contemplating the best way to get rid of him. Deciding it best to go with the tactic Brazil had taught her, she dropped-kicked him back from where he'd come from. Literally.

About Seven Miles off the Coast of Massachusetts

"Don't worry, she tells me, it's just an inside joke. No one's stupid enough to use a rowboat of all things," Timothy grumbled as he rowed. He and Eve had been in the wooden deathtrap for almost a day now and were both hating it, despite trading off who rowed when.

"Timothy, I'm gonna say this the nicest way I know how. Shut the frick up," Eve snarled at him, losing her last shred of patience. He was bugging her beyond all belief, and he was probably her best friend. It was probably a good thing it had been him as opposed to say, Collin, she had gotten stuck with, or she would have tossed him overboard a long time ago.

Nashville, Tennessee

France was in a very good mood when he pushed open the door to the bar and entered the hazy room. England had found America's address book, something the nations were rather surprised to learn he'd even _owned_, let alone used. Inside the address book had been the locations of each of his states, from Alabama to Wisconsin, and France had gotten placed in charge of collecting Tennessee. Her name was Annie and none of them had ever met her (that they could remember), so they'd figured she'd be an easy nab. Clearly they still had yet to learn from previous experiences.

The address he'd received and his own asking had led France to the bar he was currently in, where apparently this "Annie" worked. Something told him he was really going to like this girl. Sauntering over to the counter, he easily struck up a conversation with the female bartender behind it. It was from her that he learned Miss Annie worked as a singer. Little did he know that as soon as he turned away the bartender, whose name was Lola, sent one of the serving girls back to tell Annie someone was looking for her.

Power, Montana

Cody Jones jerked awake when the sirens of a nearby missile base and immediately went into Cold War mode. He had fallen asleep on his couch about an hour before, long enough for his black hair to collect enough static electricity to run York City, and apparently long enough for someone target the nearby military base.

Tumbling off the couch, he scrambled around, grabbing in shoes and emergency backpack, before whistling for Helena and scrambling out the door with the excitable Border collie on his heels. Once outside, he saw several middle-aged families doing the same as they quickly loaded up their cars with kids and emergency supplies before high-tailing it out of town.

During the 80's there had been a joke about how if you heard the sirens go off, run for the mountains. Cody hadn't forgotten, having known for quite some time if things went downhill he would be a target. Now it looked like that was about to happen.

Draper, Utah

Ida stepped off the TRAX and looked around as she tried to figure out where she was, as well as how far it was to Madison's house. Boise stirred restlessly inside of her messenger bag, poking his calico head out to look around, only to have it stuffed back in. It had been hard enough for Ida to sneak him onto the TRAX, and she was in no mood to chase the cat around Utah.

After studying a map for quite some time, Ida finally figured out which way was American Fork, where Madison's house was. Now the question was how she was going to cover the 50-ish mile difference between the two cities. Deciding hitchhiking wasn't an option, the blonde did what she was now kicking herself for not doing in the first place. She asked to borrow someone's cellphone and called her sister, asking the brunette to come pick her up.

Half an hour later, Madison's topless black jeep, lovingly dubbed the MAV (Mormon Assault Vehicle) rolled up next to where Ida was sitting. After boosting herself into the passenger seat, Ida raised an eyebrow at her older sister.  
"That was fast," she commented.  
Madison just grinned back and responded, "I drove."

Paintsville, Kentucky

Doctor McKinley looked up in surprise when Chief Brooks entered her autopsy lab looking like a man on a mission.  
"Chief," she said as she tried to regain her composure, "What a surprise. I hate to say it, but I don't have any new leads on the case…"

"I know, Doc," Brooks said curtly, "That's not why I'm here."  
"Okay," McKinley said slowly, sharing a confused look with her assistant, "Then why are you here?"

"I need to see the body that was fished out of the lake last week," he told her.  
"John Doe? Why?" McKinley asked, now really confused, not that Brooks hadn't expected her to be. Doctor Aimee McKinley was from Chicago and hadn't felt the same jolt of recognition most members of the police department had experienced when they'd seen the almost completely decomposed body.  
"I just do, Doc. It's important," Brooks practically begged. If his hunch was correct, it was important the body was taken out of cold storage.

Still confused but not willing to ask, McKinley set down her scalpel, leaving her assistant Jake to continue the autopsy they'd been working on while she went over the row of refrigerators cadavers were kept in. Finding the correct one, she turned the handle and opened the door before sliding out the metal table that held the unidentified body of an eighteen year old boy whose death had been a tick in McKinley's side ever since he had been brought to her lab.

"Tell me again what we know about him," Brooks asked. McKinley looked at him like he had completely lost it before humoring him and listing off the medical facts.

"Unidentified John Doe about sixteen years old, found in Lake Paintsville April 3rd of this year. Time and date of death unknown, but based on decomposition, around October of last year. 5 feet 7 inches, probably weighed about 130. Has multiple injuries, both old as well as new, though which one caused his death is unknown. There are multiple fractures in his skull, almost as if he made a pass time of bashing his head. Bone fractures suggest that he's broken his right arm several times, his left leg twice, his wrists, his collarbone, and three fingers. Four bullets were found lodged in his bones and other damage on his bones suggests they weren't the only bullets he's taken, though all were long before his time of death. One of the bullets belonged to a Civil War rifle, two to a World War One machine gun, and one to 60's hand gun. Calluses and general wear-and-tear on his right hand pointer finger suggests that he used a gun. A lot. Other evidence suggests he was a sharp shooter, possibly lied about his age and enlisted as a sniper if the dog tag chain found around his neck means anything. Another odd thing is that he has a tattoo of a star with a fifteen in the center on his inner right forearm."

McKinley finished her report and turned to Brooks expectantly, "Anything else?"  
Brooks shook his head, "No, nothing you could help me with. Do you think that you and Jake could take five to go get something to eat? I need to check something on our John Doe."

McKinley hesitated, but nodded her consent before exciting the lab with Jake. Once they were gone Brooks looked at the body expectantly and whispered,  
"Come on, you badger. I know you can't die, no matter what. It's been ten years since you disappeared and now you're needed. Don't disappoint now."

With that said, Brooks turned and walked out of the autopsy, purposely leaving the table pulled out. If he had but stayed a few more minutes though, he would have decomposed muscle and organs revive as they began regenerating and growing back again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Lookee! It's a list so you so that everyone else can memorize the States and know them by heart too! I have way too much time on my hands…**

Maine – Nessa Kirkland-Jones  
New Hampshire – Evelyn "Eve" Kirkland-Jones  
Vermont – Sophie Kirkland-Jones  
Rhode Island – Collin Jones  
Connecticut – Sarah Jones  
New York – James Kirkland-Jones  
Massachusetts – Paul Kirkland-Jones  
Pennsylvania – Erin Jones  
Delaware – Mitchell Kirkland-Jones  
New Jersey – Timothy Kirkland-Jones  
Maryland – Rosalie Jones  
Virginia – Elizabeth Kirkland-Jones  
West Virginia – Haymitch Jones  
North Carolina – Jessica Kirkland-Jones  
South Carolina – Emily Kirkland-Jones  
Georgia – Damian Kirkland-Jones  
Florida – Inez Carriedo-Jones (named by Spain and stuck with it)  
Alabama – Jeremy "Crick" Jones (named by Alfred and renamed himself almost immediately)  
Mississippi – Marissa "Billie" Jones (same story as Crick)  
Louisiana – Charlotte Bonnefoy-Jones (only one France bothered to get to know)  
Tennessee – Annie Jones  
Kentucky – Jesse Jones  
Ohio – Riley Jones  
Michigan – Cooper Jones  
Indiana – Steven "Indiana" Jones (can you guess why?)  
Illinois – Stephanie Jones  
Wisconsin – Dieter Jasper Jones (goes by middle name, rarely his first)  
Minnesota – Natasha Jones  
Iowa – Ashley Jones  
Missouri – Paige Jones  
Arkansas – Benny Jones  
Texas – Isabel Beverly "Bev" Carriedo- Jones (named by Spain, renamed by Alfred)  
Oklahoma – Kevin Jones  
Kansas – Nate Jones  
Nebraska – Jade Jones  
South Dakota – Phoebe Jones  
North Dakota – Piper Jones  
Montana – Cody Jones  
Wyoming – Colleen Jones  
Colorado – Jacob Jones  
New Mexico – Jaime (hi-may) Carriedo-Jones  
Arizona – Tate Jones  
Utah – Madison Emma Smith-Jones  
Idaho – Ida Jones (bad joke, I know)  
Washington – Richard Kirkland-Jones  
Oregon – Caleb Kirkland-Jones  
Nevada – Oliver Jackson Smith-Jones (named after Oliver Cowdrey, started going by middle name given by Alfred and dropped Smith after he left the Church)  
California – Camilla Nichole "Nikki" Carriedo-Jones (named by Spain, renamed by Alfred)  
Hawaii – Gina Jones (originally called Hawaii by her people, but was renamed by Alfred because calling your kid Hawaii would seem rather strange)  
Alaska – Denahi Sabrina Jones (named by Inuit tribes, renamed by Alfred)

G8 Building, Washington D.C.

There was something wrong with Doitsu, Italy was sure of it. He had tried to tell Romano and England, but they had brushed him off saying that Germany got like that whenever he was invading a country. Italy knew they were wrong though; Germany had never acted quite like this before. He was too forgetful, and less inclined to yelling. In fact, his voice seemed to be broken because his accent kept slipping and he was quieter. He'd apparently lost a few inches in height and some of the broadness in his shoulders while chasing Iowa and Connecticut as well, because he looked slightly off. None of the other nations had noticed anything different though, so Italy mostly kept his musing to himself. That other nation was missing too, but Italy couldn't remember his name.

According to Cousin France, the reason Germany was slightly off was because after the Second Great War Germany had met his soul mate and she was from America, so he didn't like invading her homeland. Italy couldn't imagine Germany in love with anyone, so he'd brushed the idea off. Besides, Cousin France was in a far-off place called Tennessee, where people carried shotguns with them everywhere and woman wore short jean shirts with open blouses and some sort of hat America had once shown the Mediterranean country called a "cowboy hat", so what did he know?

Nashville, Tennessee

France woke with a pounding headache and a rather unfortunate sense of nausea. Add that to the fact that he was hog tied and handcuffed to a four poster bed in one of the private rooms the bar had offered, and you had a very uncomfortable frog. Leaning his head against the pillow _she_ had been kind enough to leave, the European pondered how he had gotten here and where _she _had gone.

The last thing he remembered, he had been about to spend a rather wild time with the state of Tennessee, a sassy dirty blonde girl with freckles and sun-kissed skin spoke of centuries in the heat on horseback. She'd been wearing skinny jeans that clung to her waist via a brown belt, a button-up blouse that was tied at the end and opened to show just enough cleavage to send a man reeling but still leaving plenty to imagination, high heeled cowboy boots, and a well-worn cowboy hat. Oh, and she'd been singing a song called "Cowboy Casanova" in a thick Southern drawl that sent Francois into a state of hazed lust.

Of course, when described like that the whole scene didn't seem very significant, but at the time it had been the most amazing thing in the world. Of course one thing lead to another, and the next thing he knew they were in a private room kissing like there was no tomorrow. Apparently something had gone wrong though, because he didn't remember getting into this position.

**Sorry it wasn't up sooner! I mean the list, not the chapter. The list was meant to go up a while ago, but I didn't get around to it until MaliceArchangela reviewed and pointed out that I'm the only one who knows who/what everyone is. Oops!**

**Thanks so much to anyone who reviewed/PMed me last chapter, it was very much appreciated!**

**Sorry this one was so short, but Chapter 13 should be up soon!**

**Also, the reason only Spain really bothered to name any of the States when he had them as territories is because 1) he liked to show them off, and 2) because the others just didn't really care. No, it has nothing to do with me not wanting to look up Russian, Dutch, and French names for them. It's simply because France was in the middle of taking over the world, the Dutch weren't in New York for very long, Russia couldn't have cared less about poor Alaska so long as he received natural resources from her, and England only found America to really be worth his time, since the individual colonies were made by people trying to get away from him so they could have religious freedom.**


	13. Chapter 13

Yukon – Joshua "Josh/Bigfoot" Williams  
British Columbia – Alexander "Alex" Kirkland- Williams  
Alberta – Tracie Williams  
Northwestern Territories – Patricia "Trisha" Williams  
Nunavut – Tamara "Tammy" Williams  
Saskatchewan – Joan Williams  
Manitoba – Zeke Williams  
Ontario – Reid Williams  
Quebec – Claudia Bonnefoy- Williams  
New Brunswick – Merric Williams  
Nova Scotia – Sage Williams  
Prince Edward Island – Charles "Charlie" Williams-Kirkland  
Newfoundland and Labrador – Mark and Luke Williams

_Jesse took aim, carefully lining up with the back of his target's head and tracking it as the open vehicle the man was in moved. Wrapping his finger around the trigger, he prepared to squeeze when two shots rang out. The first one missed, but the second went through the target's neck, going through his shoulder before lodging into his knee._

_ Swearing under his breathe, Jesse pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through the back of his head, causing blood to explode all over his poor wife. He would have died no matter what, there were too many important things in the neck. It was however, important to make sure the job was finished before he moved on._

_ Content that his job was done, Jesse started quietly down the fire escape, careful not to draw attention to himself. Being seen coming down from the top of a building carrying a sniper rifle moments after a public assassination would not look good._

_ Stepping into the alley below, he glanced both ways before casually walking the opposite direction of all the commotion. He was almost out of the alley when a voice spoke up behind him,  
"Jesse. What have you done?" Alfred asked his son tiredly,  
Jesse gave a short laugh, "Why do ya always ask us questions when ya know you won't like the answers we'll give ya?" he asked rhetorically as he turned around to face his father._

_ Alfred looked pale and rather sick, almost like he was about to empty the contents of his stomach into a nearby dumpster; all expected after the death of such an important figure.  
"Jesse," he said again.  
Jesse shrugged, "I assassinated another president, what else?"_

Bellflower, Missouri

Steven skillfully picked the lock and slipped into a small two story home, careful to make sure no one had noticed him. Stepping into the entryway, he started to walk down the shotgun hallway, but was stopped by the clicking sound that hailed a gun being loaded. Before he could get out of the way, said gun was resting against his temple and a female voice asked softly,  
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Trying not to let his nervousness show, Steven forced a grin and said, "How could you not recognize me, Paige? I'm the hero!"  
Almost immediately he was spun around and back-planted into the door of the hall closet. Paige Jones gave who she thought of as one of her most annoying siblings (besides the Mormons) a glare before tucking the gun away and heading down the hall to the kitchen.

"What do you want, Steven? And I'm not in the mood for another one of your around the world adventures, so don't even ask," the saucy Missourian told the self-proclaimed "hero". Indiana had a tendency to try and live up to his "namesake", usually dragging Riley and at least one of the girls into the mess. Paige had lost count of how many times Riley had been abandoned in a foreign country, as Steven tended to take him for granted.

"Cooper sent me to come and get you. Is that alright or should I leave?"

G8 Building, Washington D.C.

"Britain?" Italy asked nervously and the island nation sighed. He had overheard Italy's conspiracy theory about Germany when the pasta-loving nation had told it to France and he was in no mood to have it shared with him.  
"What is it Italy?"

"Something is wrong with Doitsu!" Italy exclaimed, happy to find someone who would slow down long enough to listen to him.  
"Now why would you think that?" Britain asked as he started to walk away,  
"Because something is wrong!" Italy wailed, but England had already walked down the hall and turned to corner and was no longer paying him the slightest bit of attention.

"What's wrong, Italy? No one paying any attention to ya?" James asked in the nation's native language. Quickly Italy turned towards the state, who had been handcuffed to a chair in one of the corners of the conference room. His three captured siblings had been locked in a room on a higher floor, but England and Germany had both wanted the America look-alike where they could keep an eye on him.

"There is something wrong with Doitsu!" Italy shouted in Italian and James winced at the volume.  
"Really? Like what?" he asked as he tried to pop his ears, which had been clogged by the sudden increase of pressure in the room.

Italy paused and though a moment before responding, "I don't really know, but there is something. He's acting way different."  
"Oh, okay. Who's Doitsu again?" James asked. He spoke Italian like a pro (Italian mob and Little Italy did have some major influence), but "Doitsu" wasn't a word he was familiar with.  
"Germany," Italy responded fondly, his earlier shrieking forgone. At least, it was until James started laughing his head off and sputtering in a mix of the 800 different languages spoken in New York City alone. That set Italy off again, creating the scene Spain walked in on ten minutes later when he went back for his coat only to leave again, deciding nothing was worth entering the mad house the conference room had become.

Outside the G8 Building, Washington D.C.

Britain stalked out of the building grumbling about mad Italians and moody Germans, too caught up in his frustration to notice the black haired young woman who'd been waiting for him to exit. Sophie Jones slipped out of the shadows and followed the once-empire a few steps before saying,  
"Hey Britain! Massachusetts says "hello"." Britain, who had turned around when she'd said his name, quickly became acquainted with Eve's favorite iron-clad skillet. Once he was out, Sophie quickly grabbed the blonde's ankles and dragged him into the nearby bushes. Loud rustling accompanied with several swear words followed, but ended when the bushes spat someone back out. The blonde straightened out with a violent curse as he dusted off his stolen uniform and fixed his fake eyebrows. Deciding things looked about as good as they would get, he walked back into the building England had just exited, not noticing Italy's face plastered to the upper story window.

**Your reviews are my updates. Or chocolate, take your pick.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi. Please don't kill me; I truly am sorry about the wait. No, I do not have writers block, I just don't quite know how to link where we are now with what happens next, so bear with me. Also, I have a poll up on my profile. Originally he was going to do a surprise entrance at the very end, but then the plot bunnies got into a fist fight over whether or not that should happen, so I'm turning to my amazing readers for the final decision. So, yeah. Please vote!**

_ Two young boys armed with wooden swords and small makeshift shields ran down the stone hallway of one of the many castles within the Holy Roman Empire. Both boys were blonde with bright blue eyes and were nearly identical. Nearly. Their hair was tousled and it was clear they'd wound up wrestling on the floor several times. Their play was interrupt, however, when one of them accidentally crashed into a taller blonde boy dressed in black._

_ "Watch out, Ludwig," the newcomer snapped. Immediately Ludwig jerked back towards his brother,  
"Watch yourself, Fritz. It isn't my fault you're so busy daydreaming about that girly Italian that your "battle skills" are slipping," Ludwig snapped back. Fritz glared at his brother, irritated he'd bring up Feliciano. Upon returning home, the Germanic had looked up "Feliciano" in the library and had found out it was a boy's name. While he was certain the pretty Italian maid was in fact a girl, his relatives seemed incapable of letting it slide._

_ By now the two were locked in a staring contest and Ludwig's playmate was tugging on his sleeve,  
"Stop it, Ludwig. Just apologize so we can go play again," Dieter whispered urgently, ever hoping to avoid conflict. Over the last few months Fritz had been getting sicker and easier to agitate, leading him and Ludwig to butt heads continually. The younger Germanic was what their oldest brother Gilbert liked to call a "radical". He didn't like being told what to do and wasn't afraid to voice his opinion, despite physically being about ten years old as opposed to Fritz's fourteen. Strangely enough, their relationship reflected the state of the empire._

_ Luckily for the boys, it was then that Gilbert made his appearance. The albino came walking swiftly down the hall while reading a stack of reports, but slowed when he felt the temperature drop. Looking up, he saw Ludwig and Fritz seconds away from breaking into another one of their infamous brawls while Dieter tried (and failed) to diffuse the situation. Putting on his cockiest grin, the Prussian stepped forward._

_ "Ze awesome me is here! What's seems to be ze problem?" he asked loudly. Both Fritz and Ludwig jumped at the noise and there was a brief silence before Ludwig said,  
"Nothing. Come on Dieter, let's go."_

_ With that, the two boys left quickly, leaving Gilbert and Fritz behind. Once they were out of earshot, the older turned to his brother,  
"What happened?"_

_ Fritz shrugged,  
"Dieter and I almost got in a fight again, it happened every day." He was about to say more when their other brother, Haydn, walked up from the way Ludwig and Dieter had gone.  
"Have you two seen Ludwig and Dieter fighting? Gods above, those two can swing those swords. The old man would have been proud."_

_ That's when he noticed the expressions on his other two brother's faces. Gilbert was frustrated, but Fritz looked absolutely devastated.  
"What?" the Saxon asked, frustrated they excited as he was about their youngest brothers being natural warriors. Quickly stepping forward, Gilbert grabbed Haydn's arm and dragged him into an adjoining hallway._

_ "What?" Haydn asked again as he wrenched his arm away from Gilbert. They were on better terms now then they had in the past, but there was no way the tribesman was going to let his controlling Prussian brother drag him around. Their mutual agreement to get along, however, was deteriorating with Fritz's condition, causing friction not all that unlike between Fritz and Dieter._

_ "Why would say that?" Gilbert hissed under his breath, "Can't you see that as those two are getting stronger, Fritz is getting weaker? Why do you think that is?"  
Haydn shrugged,  
"Fritz needs to stop fantasizing about she-man Italian cowards and focus on his training if he wants to stay on top."_

_ Gilbert gawked his brother for a moment before the other got bored and left him standing there in favor of finding someone to spar with, preferably Adela. She's always fun._

Saratoga Springs, Utah

Madison (Utah) looked over each of her Westies, taking note of their clothes, weapons, and varying states of exhaustion. Jacob (Colorado) was sitting on a barstool in her kitchen fiddling with several sticks of dynamite and an alarm clock, but surprisingly enough Madison wasn't worried about it. Ida (Idaho) was curled up with Boise (a calico cat) against the arm of the couch trying hard not to fall asleep. Jackson (Nevada) was sitting in an armchair as far away from the rest of them as he could get. Nikki (California) and Gina (Hawaii) sat close together on the same couch as Ida as they chattered about something or other. Caleb (Oregon) was raiding the fridge while Richard (Washington) raided the cereal cupboard. Tate (Arizona) and Jaime (New Mexico) were, in their quest for warmth, practically sitting in the fire as they competed with Heber (Salt Lake City; German shepherd) for space on the hearth. Sabrina (Alaska) sat on the window seat watching the snow fall through the window as she nursed a cup of hot chocolate. Colleen (Wyoming) sat on a barstool next to Jacob reading her Book of Mormon. Madison herself sat at her dining room table methodically taking apart and cleaning her Colt 1911.

The noise level was shockingly low considering how many teenagers were shoved into one general area, but the over-all tension level of the room explained why. It was broken suddenly when the front door opened and Cody (Montana) stepped through the door. Taking off his coat, he accidentally shook snow all over the wood floor by the front entry way, but no one really cared.

"Sorry I'm late," he called as he tossed his duffel bag on top of the pile next to the door, "But the weather's horrendous. Three feet of snow. In April. Four and a half up in Morgan. Excuse the humor, but if anyone wants to invade Utah any time soon, they're gonna have ta send in the Russians."  
The others laughed at that as Madison shrugged with an innocent "oops" and the tension in the room melted. It didn't last long though, because they all knew that now that Cody was here, it was time to get down to business.

"So what's the plan?" Jacob asked Madison once Cody had sat down and handed a mug of hot chocolate. The brunette shrugged,  
"I haven't the slightest. What do we know?"  
Cody passed a file to her,  
"Fifteen states have been taken by the European Alliance. Maine, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Vermont, New Hampshire, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia. They're working on Ohio, West Virginia, Tennessee, Alabama, and Florida, but not getting very far."

"Stubborn hicks," Tate commented, earning several laughs from his siblings. Cody grinned before continuing,  
"Only ones captured are James (New York), Sarah (Connecticut), Collin (Rhode Island), and for some reason Ashley (Iowa). Cuba tried to conquer Florida, but Inez fixed him good," there was more laughter, "Mexico is trying to reclaim what she lost during the Mexican-American War, but Bev's (Texas) holdin' her off rather nicely.

"Don't know what's up with the Asian countries and whether or not they're going to take advantage of our current predicament, but considering how scared Kiku and Yao are of Gina and Nikki, I doubt they will. Don't know where Canadia's kids are, but I'm assuming they're still alive. Umm… Think that's it. Stephanie's still in Iraq, Steven might be in Nepal with Riley, but I don't know for certain. No one's seen Jesse well, almost a decade. Sucks, especially now that we'll need a sniper. Yup," he nodded in satisfaction, "That's pretty much it."

Madison nodded and Ida looked up from where she was dozing in excitement,  
"So we're going East?"  
"Sure," Madison answered, "The ques'ion is: how. Can't drive, i''d (it'd) take too long. So unless ya'll know someone with a plane, we're in trouble."

They were all quite for a moment before Jackson spoke up for the first time,  
"I do."  
Everyone looked at him in shock before Madison spoke up,  
"Trip across the Salt Flats, anyone?"  
The others all groaned loudly.

Glasglow, Scotland

"What do you mean; there are no flights to the U.S.!" Stephanie (Illinois) demanded.  
"I am sorry, ma'am," the French ticket lady apologized, though her irritation was beginning to show through, "But zhere is nozhing I can do. Zhere are simply no planes flying to the United States."

Stephanie groaned and thought for a moment before asking,  
"What about Canada? Are there any flights to one of the Canadian Providences?"  
"Non."  
"What about Mexico? Cuba? Costa Rica and Haiti, for crying out loud?!"  
"Non. Zhere are no flights open to South America due to being unable to refuel along the Eastern American coast."

"Okay, are you just saying no because you're ticked or are you seriously telling me I can't get home?" Stephanie asked in frustration.  
"Oui. Zhere are no flights to North or South America. I am sorry; please step aside for zhe next person."

Stephanie stared at her.  
"Seriously? Did you seriously just say that? I don't think you quite understand. I have been from Afghanistan, to Greece, to Hungary, to Germany, to the Netherlands, to Denmark, to… Where the heck are we?"  
"Scotland."  
"Right. What the heck is a Frenchie like you doing in Scotland? Anyway, it doesn't matter. The point is, I am trying to get home to my family and you are telling me I flipping can't. Do you see the problem here?"  
"Ma'am," the lady said, "I am truly sorry, but zhere is nothing I can do. Now, please step aside or I will call security."

A few minutes later Stephanie found herself walking down the street towards a city park. Once there, she found a nice bench to plop on with her duffle bag next to her. People walking past made sure to give her a wide berth, not wanting to be caught associating with an American soldier.

There were no obvious signs, of course, she wasn't stupid, but it was fairly easy to tell. She was wearing her tan cargo pants for lack of other options, tan combat boots, an olive green shirt, and her Chicago Cubs baseball hat with her red hair pulled up in a ponytail. All that was missing was her American flag and assault rifle.

Placing her head in her hands, Stephanie mulled over her situation and tried not to break down sobbing. Luckily, she was interrupted before she could.

"Ye alright, lass?" a thickly accented male voice asked. Stephanie laughed dryly,  
"I'm an American soldier who went AWOL and is currently stranded in a foreign country with a limited amount of money, no contacts, and no way of getting home. What about my situation seems okay to you?"

The Scotsman shrugged as he sat down next to her,  
"I suppose ye've a point. Good thing I'm here."  
Stephanie looked at him in suspicion,  
"Wadd'ya mean?"  
He smirked,  
"Allow me to introduce meself. Ma name is Alistair Kirkland." He held out his hand expectantly. Stephanie studied him for a moment before giving it a firm shake,  
"Lieutenant Stephanie Jones."

Alistair smirked as he placed a kiss on her knuckles,  
"Nice ta meet ya."

Detroit, Michigan

Cooper (Michigan) sighed in relief as he place the phone back into its receiver and turned to face the others,  
"The Westies are on their way. Should take them about a day or so, depending on whether or not Madison drives. Reid's on his way to where Uncle Canadia sent our favorite cousins to tell them what's going on and hopefully get them on our side. So in the mean time, we hang tight and don't let things get any worse than they already are. So, Tasha," he pointed at her, "I need you to start working on keeping our enemies out of this and our allies just allied."

Natasha (Minnesota) looked at him in disbelief,  
"You want me to leave at a time like this?"  
Cooper nodded,  
"I know you don't want to, but someone needs to and you're the most qualified. In the mean time, the rest of us will gather intel and keep in contact with our infiltrators. The last thing we need is to lose more people. And, if someone could tell me how the heck they got a hold of Ashley that would be great."

**Okay, awesome excuse time. Over Spring Break I went to Germany on a school trip, so that's why I didn't update. It was flippin' amazing. I seriously loved all of it (especially the bread). Didn't so much love the whole sinus infection and bronchitis part, but it was still amazing. I have a bunch of different ideas, both for TFSSFF and others, but I'm going to focus on this one. But yes, I want to marry a German soldier and move to Germany, but that's besides the point. Is it wrong that I'm pretty much in love with the German stereotype? (Ludwig)**

**So, yes. Review, favorite, follow, all that fun stuff.**

**And don't forget to vote on my profile, I really need the feedback!**


	15. Chapter 15

_ Cody, Jacob, Tate, Jaime, Jasper, Caleb, Richard, James, and Cooper all stood in their father's living room dressed in slacks and collared white button-down shirts. Cody was attempting to help Jasper with his tie, the key word being attempting._

_ "Okay," the tall Montanan was saying, "Now, what you do is the bunny goes around the hill, into his hole, and – dang it! Okay, Jake, go find a scout manual and the rest of you help untie me," he told the others upon discovering his hand was stuck. Before anymore damage could be done, Madison descended down the stairs and laughed when she saw her brother's predicament._

_ "Troubles?" she teased as she stepped forward and took charge. Skillfully untying Cody's hand, she released him before trading Jasper's tie for Caleb's, which was a clip-on that matched much better. The brunette Utahan then proceeded to trade Cooper's for Jaime's and Cody's for Richard's before turning to Jacob, who'd tied his tie around his head. Taking it off, she fixed it around his neck and adjusted his collar before turning back to Jasper. Immediately after her back was turned, Jacob took it back off and retied it around his head._

G8 Building, Washington D.C.

Jasper (Wisconsin) adjusted his collar in an attempt to increase airflow through his lungs. Getting up at the same time as Germany usually did this morning had been difficult, almost as much as figuring out the man's uniform. It'd been awhile since he'd worn a uniform, but the blonde hadn't realized just how long until he'd needed to put one on without assistance. At least there wasn't a tie; Jasper hated ties with a burning passion. It wasn't the look he hated, but rather the task of getting it on and keeping it so without strangling himself that drove him up the wall.

Briefly considering unbuttoning his collar, he decided against it when he noticed Prussia staring at him again. The albino had been doing it a lot recently and it was starting to make Jasper nervous, though Timothy (New Jersey) insisted he was just being paranoid.

Gilbert knew something was up, Jasper was sure of it. Italy certainly did, but thanks to James's (New York) distraction techniques the Italian wouldn't be sharing with anyone that could do some major damage. Russia, for example. It would be very unfortunate for the States if Ivan caught wind of what was going on, especially considering what all had happened during the Cold War.

**I am so incredibly sorry it's so short, but I promise Chapter 16 is in the making.**

**Also, a major thank you for the TWO people who voted on my profile, you're awesome like Prussia. And if you haven't voted, be awesome like Prussia and do so!**


	16. Chapter 16

**So, originally the flashback-y things at the beginning weren't supposed to have anything to do with the chapters and were only supposed to be Alfred interacting with his kids but… Yeah, that's not goin' too great.**

_The World Meeting was loudly interrupted by one of the many doors being thrown open with a loud bang. Immediately all eyes were on the two armor clad and katana wielding states ran into the room and hurriedly closed the door behind them. Both were dressed in traditional samurai armor, making it impossible to tell whether they were male or female. For everyone but America at least._

_ "California, Hawaii, what are you two doing?" he asked in exhaustion, choosing to use their state names rather than their human because that's usually when they started taking him seriously. Both girls jumped in surprise, having not known the room was occupied, before turning around and taking off their masks._

_ "Oh, you know," the shorter Asian looking one said conversationally, "Regular touristy things. Buying souvenirs, flirting with local boys, ticking off local crime lords, hotwiring cars and letting Maddy drive… All that fun stuff." She grinned at the end while the taller Polynesian smirked and winked._

_ "I'm sorry I asked," their father groaned as he set his head down on the table. Next to him Japan looked seconds away from a panic attack but was saved from just a spectacle when another door was thrown open a two more girls ran in; a taller brunette in a kimono and a blonde in a black ninja outfit._

_ "That's it," the blonde declared as she tried to adjust her clothing, "Ninja's a frickin' short."  
"Wanna trade?" California asked, gesturing to her too large armor. Before the other could respond though, yet another door was opened as a young man clearly of European descend dressed in a Japanese military uniform hurried in._

"_There you girls are!" he exclaimed in relief, "I've been running all over Nagasaki trying to find you!" he paused and looked at the Kimono girl closely,  
"Where's your bed sheet, Madsy?"  
"Very funny. And what happened to your hair?" Madison asked in return.  
He sighed before answering,  
"There aren't many blondes in Japan so I had to improvise. Do any of you know how to get ink out of hair?"_

_ "Nail polish remover," Ida answered, being the only other blonde, "It'll irritate your skin a bit, but it'll get rid of the problem pretty good."  
He nodded while California snorted,  
"And did you fool anyone dressed like that, Jasper?"_

_ Jasper winced before reaching down and pulling up his pant leg to show where his leg had been sliced by a katana,  
"Nope. Now let's hurry so I can stitch myself back up before it heals funny."_

_ They all nodded in agreement before running out of the room. The next time they entered, Madison was in Hawaii's armor, Hawaii wore the kimono, Ida wore California's armor, and California wore the ninja costume. The young man had somehow secured the clothing of a fisherman, but no one wanted to ask where he'd gotten them from._

Detroit, Michigan

"So who do we have?" Madison (Utah) asked Cooper (Michigan).  
"Everyone but Rosalie (Maryland), Kevin (Oklahoma), Bev (Texas), Charlotte (Louisiana), Annie (Tennessee), Crick (Alabama), Beth (Virginia), Billie (Mississippi), Benny (Arkansas), Haymitch (West Virginia), Stephanie (Illinois), Jesse (Kentucky), and those who've been captured. Jasper (Wisconsin) and Timothy (New Jersey) are undercover as Germany and Canada. Natasha (Minnesota) leaves tomorrow, but she won't tell anyone where too. Some nonsense about not being able to trust us not to blow her cover. Billie (Mississippi) and Annie (Tennessee) are on their way up and'll meet us after they find Jesse (Kentucky)."

Madison looked at him strangely,  
"Jesse? You do realize he's been missing for nearly a decade, right?"  
Cooper nodded,  
"Yup, but try telling them that. For some reason Annie's convinced he's back and has gotten the Hippie to hop of the crazy train," he explained, remembering the "conversation" he'd had with the two Southerners on the phone not long before Madison and the other Westies had arrived.

"But wouldn't you or Steph be able to tell if he was still alive?" Madison pressed.  
Cooper shook his head,  
"I wouldn't, since I'm not a Sectional, and there's no way for us to get ahold of Steph without the Europeans intercepting."  
"So there's no way of really telling?"  
"None at all. Besides, Jesse's dead and it's past time for us to accept that fact."

Paintsville, Tennessee: Two Days Earlier

He felt sick. The world around him spun and though there was nothing in his stomach, he felt like he was about to puke. His head pounded with the rhythm of his now-beating heart and spots danced in his vision as the newly reformed muscle threatened to give way and send him crashing to the cold tile floor.

_Where am I?_ He didn't know.

_What was the last thing he remembered?_ Being cold and wet. Lungs screaming for are as they filled with murky lake water.

_Someone put me there. Who?_ He didn't know. He did at one point, but now he couldn't remember.

_Why?_ That was a side effect of regeneration, along with nausea and bodily weakness.

_How do I know that?_ He wasn't sure, but he knew he'd done this before.

_Who am I?_ Again he didn't know, but he was important, he was sure of it. Something to do with his family. He just couldn't remember.

Pushing this all to the side, he focused on trying to stand. Forcing his legs to cooperate, he leaned heavily on the metal table he'd been laying on.

_Why am I in a morge?_ Very good question; pity he didn't have the answer. Instead, he put all his efforts into stepping forward. Once he was satisfied with his walking ability, he focused on the next most important issue. Clothes. He didn't have any.

In fact, the only thing that shielded his vital regions from the outside world was a towel he suspected had been used for such a purpose many times before. He wouldn't have minded so much (he'd been in the Marines, for Pete's sake!) if it weren't for the whole morgue business. Believe it or not, wearing a towel used for dead men was not his idea of a fun time.

Stumbling around a bit and accidently knocking over a tray of scalpels (now that was scary), he eventually found a cupboard used for storing spare scrubs. The fabric was hospital green and well-worn to a point they felt like pajamas, but clothing was clothing.

Getting into the scrubs with Jell-O muscles was quite the adventure, he did it and was soon on his way, and not a moment too soon as Doctor McKinley had returned and was not happy at all to find one of her cadavers had disappeared.

Detroit, Michigan

"Okay, let me get this straight. We're missing about half the States, four of whom have been captured. Connections along the East coast are down, so we can't contact anyone over there. Our Atlantic fleet has been captured by the European Alliance and our Pacific fleet isn't going to be of much help for at least a week. Canadian bombers have been doing raids on Northern states, primarily ones with military targets. Cuba has been subdued, but Mexico is still rearing. You've captured Germany, Canada, and England and've replaced the first two with Jasper (Wisconsin) and Timothy (New Jersey) and want to send in Caleb as an England look-alike ASAP. Detroit is our base for the time being, but we're moving to St. Louis soon. Natasha (Minnesota) has somehow managed to leave the country without getting intercepted and is going to try and appeal to our allies, which in Tasha's case means she's going to basically threatened them until they comply. Mitchell (Delaware) is planning on going back into the occupied states whether we like it or not so he can vocally spearhead the rebellion force there while simultaneously doing recon. We're planning an escape for the four who've been captured, but nothing is set in stone, so we're praying Russia doesn't catch wind of this first. Did I miss anything?"

Cooper shook his head,  
"Nope, that's about right."  
Madison nodded,  
"Alrighty then," there was a pause before she asked, "So, where are you keeping England, Germany, and Canada?"

"Canada's in St. Louis already, England's out of my jurisdiction so I haven't the slightest where he is, and Germany's in my basement," was the easy response.  
"In your basement? You have a basement?" Madison was astounded.

Cooper nodded like it was nothing,  
"Yup. Dug it out myself back in '56 as a bomb shelter. It's not the best place to keep a prisoner, but it's secure. We were going to send Germany to St. Louis with Uncle Matt, but once he woke up it was hard enough to get him here, let alone down to Missouri. I finally had to just assign the Dakota's to watch duty until we can get ahold of something that'll subdue him."

Madison nodded in full understanding before asking,  
"Do they need a break?"

**Okay, next chapter should come either tomorrow or Saturday, but every time I say something like that it ends up not happening, so please don't eat if it doesn't happen! For the most part though, updates will be primarily on weekends.**


	17. Chapter 17

**I've decided that instead of ****, for cussing I'm just going to do my own little censored inserts.**

**Also, I know I said Timothy replaced Canada, but I've changed my mind. At some point I'll go back and make that switch, but for the time being this is it.**

_ Jasper was digging through an old trunk when he came across something terrible.  
"Madsy?" He called, holding a large black hat up for her to see, "What is this thing?"  
Madison looked up from where she was rummaging and blinked when she saw the thing,  
"Oh wow. I dunno know, but that thing is hideous."_

_ Making her way over to Jasper, Madison asked aloud,  
"Wha' on earth? Is i' like a pira'e ha' or som'in'(Is it like a pirate hat or something)?"  
Jasper shook his head,  
"No, I don't think it is. It actually kind of like-"_

_ "Heck no, that ain't a pirate's hat!" James interrupted, "Nutmeg, just suggesting it could be is an insult ta pirates everywhere!" Noticing Madison's grimace, he quickly apologized for cussing. That's when Cooper stepped in,  
"And whad'd'ya know about pirates, _Jimmy_?" he mocked, knowing James hated that nickname._

_ "Well, Britain was one, and occasionally he'd bring me wid 'im."  
"Didn't he think you were Dad?" Erin asked.  
James sighed and gave her a forlorn look,  
"Why can't youse just let me live wid the disillusioned idea me fadder actually loved me?"_

G8 Building, Washington D.C.

"Hey, Italy," James said gently in Italian, "Do youse want me ta help you figure out what's wrong with Germany?"

Elsewhere in the Same Building

Prussia was staring at him again. Jasper could feel the albino's red eyes boring into the back of his head. It was starting to fry his nerves and the other nations had begun to notice. He needed to tread lightly or both he and Timothy were dead men. That that threat hung over their heads in a way it never had before, never mind the countless war and skirmishes they'd been in. This was real and it all depended on whether or not Jasper could trick Gilbert Beilschmidt into believing he was his brother.

Gilbert watched Ludwig carefully. Despite how much it pained him to admit it, the she-man Italian coward (he took a moment to grimace about how much he sounded like Saxony) had been right when he'd said something was wrong with Ludwig. Something was terribly wrong and Gilbert suspected he knew how to get to the bottom of it.

Before the Prussian could put his awesome plan into motion though, France walked into the room and stepped in front of Gilbert, affectively blocking his view of the other German.  
Taking this opportunity, Jasper collected his paperwork and left the room at what he hoped was a respectable pace.

Noticing but not entirely caring that Germany had left; Francis asked of Gilbert,  
"Have you seen Canada? He has been missing for quite some time."  
Gilbert looked confused,  
"Who?"

Detroit, Michigan

Phoebe (South Dakota) stared at Germany, daring him to embark in another contest while the European tried desperately to focus his attention somewhere else. When the twins had first been assigned to watch him, he'd engaged in a contest with the southern one, hoping to intimidate her, but in the end all he'd done was hurt his eyes. Next to Phoebe sat Piper (North Dakota), who had neither moved nor blinked in over an hour. To be honest it was beginning to scare him.

The two states were identical twins and only had a few subtle differences that separated them. After nine hours of only seeing them, Germany could recognize those signs. Both wore their black hair in a pixie cut and Piper had spiked hers in the back with some of Cooper's hair gel (though he'd never admit to owning hair product). Their brilliant green eyes had traces of gold around the pupils and for some reason didn't need to blink. Ever.  
They were tan with freckles dusting their high cheek bones, proudly proclaiming their Native American heritage. Piper didn't like to wear shoes and sported a kepi cap. Phoebe wore a military beret, though Germany couldn't tell from which country it came from. Both had a wiry build that suggested a lot of running and occasional periods of starvation (then again, most of their siblings had the same starved look). Piper had a Civil War rifle loaded and laid across her knees. Phoebe had a hunting knife strapped to her leg and a coyote settled at her feet. In short: there was no way he'd be getting past these two.

As he was musing this, the door to the room opened behind him and Phoebe looked up while Piper stirred, blinking experimentally as she stretched. It was then that Ludwig realized the northern Dakota twin had been sleeping the last six hours with her eyes wide open, a trick they'd learned during the Civil War.

"Hey-ya, westie," Phoebe said with an easy smile, "How can we help ya?"  
"Break time," was the response and almost immediately the twins were gone, shouting thanks over their shoulders as they tried to reach the bathroom first.

The door closed and Germany tensed, not entirely certain who the new-comer was. What he was certain of though, was that she was here to question him and he was determined to not break. There was a soft snort behind him before he felt cool fingers begin to knead the knots out of the back of his neck.

"Madison," Ludwig whispered.  
"You expec'in' someone else?" the Mormon girl asked teasingly, "'Cause I'm sure Crick (Alabama) wouldn't mind visiting."

Baltimore, Maryland

A pale brunette slipped out the side door of a hospital, cautiously looking around the back alley before walking towards the street. Over her shoulder was a purse containing various… _materials _she'd _borrowed_ from the hospital. Part of her felt guilty for taking these much needed supplies from her citizens, but she needed them too. Besides, what she was doing held president over a few lives.

"What're ya'll doin' here, Rosie girl?" a deep southern accent stopped her before she left the alley. Freezing for a moment, she forced herself to relax and put on her infamous malicious smirk before turning around,  
"Alabama. You're not still sore about the whole Civil War incident, are you?"

The glare she got in return was all the answer needed. Jeremy "Crick" Jones was by no means tall or physically imposing, but something about the way he held himself made up for that. Average height with icy blue eyes, bleached blonde hair that'd once been a similar color to France's, pierced ears, and several prison tattoos coupled with lean muscle and calloused hands that were quick with a noose, Crick wasn't someone you wanted to be on the bad side of. Unfortunately, southern slave states that had sided with the Union during the Civil War didn't make that cut, Rosalie (Maryland) in particular.

The said woman clicked her tongue degradingly,  
"You shouldn't hold grudges, Jeremy, it's not healthy. Besides, I haven't done anything wrong."  
"Don't ya'll give me none of your crap," Crick snapped, "I'm not here ta settle anything havein' ta do with the war."  
"Then way are you here?"  
"Ta ask you what the heron you think you're doin'."

"Excuse me?" Rosalie asked rhetorically, "I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean."  
"Like hamish you don't," Crick snarled, "I know what you're doin', what you're planning ta do in the morinin'."  
Rosalie pouted, a gesture that made Crick even more angry,  
"Oh, come on Cricky, have a bit more faith in me, will you?  
Crick sneered,  
"It don't matter the rest of 'em have forgotten about what you did, because I sure haven't. You've done an awful lot of betrayin' before and you're always gonna be the Liar."

**Thou shalt review!**

**Also, I've changed the pic of James on my profile and what Timothy is doing in it will be explained later, if anyone wants to check that out.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Holy cheesecake, 109 reviews!**

_An American plane weaved wildly as it was chased by a German fighter, its pilot growing increasingly desperate. From the ground, German guards and Allied prisoners of war watched the almost dogfight, all wondering why the American pilot didn't fire back. Instead, he was trying to lose the other plane by flying in the clouds and changing altitudes at a wild pace. His flying was impressive, but the German was shooting._

_As those on the ground watched, the bullets tore through one of the wings, causing the pilot to briefly lose control but somehow he managed to regain. Horror rippled through the prisoners as the watched the German continue to riddle the plane with bullets until he hit the engine and sent it spiraling down. The plane hit the ground not far from the camp and the German guards cheered as the other plane flew away victorious. It was then that several of the younger guards decided to take one of the jeeps and check out the crash while the prisoners watched in melancholy._

_Once the Germans got there though, they were faced with something they had not expected. The plane had been brought down in such a way that the damage was minimal, though it would never fly again. The pilot was alive and well and standing with her back to them as she shouted angrily and threw her hat on the ground next to a rucksack that contained her worldly belongings. Hearing them pull up, the woman whirled around to face them._

_The four German boys slowly got out of the car, unsure of what to do. They'd heard of female American pilots known as WASPs, but they usually stayed in U.S. or England. For her to be so far out here was an oddity in itself._

_But before they had a chance to ask her, the small fire that'd been started in the plane hit the fuel tank and the entire machine exploded. The blast caught the WASP, sending her flying several feet and embedding several pieces of shrapnel into her back while the Germans ducked behind the jeep._

Detroit, Michigan

Madison wrapped her arms loosely around Ludwig's neck before burying her head in the crook of his neck, her breathing deep and even as he in turn leaned his head back to rest against her shoulder. It was a familiar position, one that they'd often done during the years following the end of World War Two, when paperwork had kept Ludwig in his chair for hours. After several minutes, Madison shifted and placed a kiss on his cheek before saying,  
"You know, if you wanted to visit so badly, you could have just called ahead and we would have gotten you a plane ticket."

Ludwig cracked a small smile before responding in German,  
"If only that were it."  
"So why are you here then?" Madison asked as she sat in the chair in front of him South Dakota had only recently vacated, "What did we do this time tha's so terrible a'least five countries, mos' of whom are our allies, would launch a surprise invasion?"

"It is not that simple," Ludwig told her. Utah looked like she wanted nothing more to smack him. Standing up, she made like she was going to walk away only to stop just after she passed him. Turning around quickly, Madison made a split second decision as grabbed his collar, kissed him quickly, and left.

Hallway up the stairs, the upper door was thrown open and Nate (Kansas) thundered down, nearly knocking his adopted sister back down.  
"We've got seventeen bombers about a hundred-fifty miles out approaching from the northeast," he told Madison in a rush.  
"Ah, cheesecake!" she snarled before rushing up the rest of the stairs, Nate right behind her. Just before she reached the top, Madison stopped and turned to him.

"Nate, I need you to stay here and guard Germany," she told him. Immediately he started protesting, but Utah was already gone, leaving dust bowler to sulk back to where Ludwig was being held.

Sprinting up the rest of the stairs two at a time, Madison crashed into Cooper (Michigan) at the top. Already dressed in a flight suit, Cooper immediately shoved a spare flight suit and leather jacket into Madison's hands before they ran out of his house. In the driveway was a pick-up with several suited up pilots under twenty waiting anxiously in the bed. Without breaking a stride, the two states threw themselves into the bed of the truck and Cooper hit the roof of the cab twice, signaling to the driver they were ready.

As Madison attempted to clamor into the flight suit without falling overboard (something she'd gotten very good at during the Second World War), Cooper introduced everyone.  
"Madsy, this is Markus, Jeff, Zane, Trent, Reece, Red, and Toni. Guys, this is my half-sister Madison."

"You fly?" Reece shouted over the roar of the engine.  
"Served eigh' years!" Madison shouted back.  
"Ever been in a dogfight?" Toni asked.  
"Yep, been sho' down too!"

"Here's the real question, can nine pilots take down eighteen Canadian bombers?" Trent added.  
"Or where Jones has been hiding enough planes to house us all!" Red shouted as she flashed a teasing grin at Cooper, who grinned back only to wipe it off as soon as he saw Madison's raised eyebrow.

"Wait, how old're you?" Reece asked Madison, who grinned back.  
"Younger than Cooper," Madison told him as they pulled into the parking lot of an old warehouse.

"What is this place?" Zane asked as they all jumped out and followed Cooper as he ran towards the warehouse. Ignoring them, Cooper fished a key out of the breast pocket of his flight suit and opened the warehouse door. Leading the way inside, he flipped a switch, illuminating the contents and showing them all his rather impressive collection.

"This was a refueling stop for the WAFs, Women's Auxiliary Ferrying, and later the WASPs, Women's Auxiliary Service Pilots, during World War Two. Found it, fixed it up, been mine ever since," Cooper explained briefly as he shared a significant look with Madison, who remembered it all too well.  
"How does an eighteen year old in college have all this?" Zane asked. For a moment Madison was worried, but then the others all gave Zane a hard look and he deflated, saving Cooper from a very awkward answer.

"Bombers, coming soon?" Toni reminded them and immediately everyone was scrambling into the cockpits of the various fighter planes Cooper had accumulated over the years. Madison immediately ran to the 1941 P-40 Warhawk in the corner, inspecting it quickly before climbing in. She'd flown dozens of different plane models over the years, but the Kittyhawk had always been a personal favorite. It was the model she'd been flying when she was shot down in 1942, an event that had created quite the emotional bond. Now, seventy-one years later, she was going to use it to shoot down former allies. Funny how times change.

**Next Time:**

"**Who are you again?"**

"**The Canadian Providences have arrived and man, are they peeved."**

"**You may not be Ludwig, but you are my brother!"  
"I have no idea what you're talking about!"**

"**Germany and England have escaped, Canada has been misplaced, Jasper and Timothy's cover has been blown, and James is about to face a firing squad. What else can go wrong?"**

"**Maryland has formerly surrendered!"**


End file.
